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Connecticut 
Agricultural  College. 

VOL.- ]JdJD..I3 ^  ^ 

NO &X.Lfb:.M4 


CLASS 

COS 
DATE 


19.V^ 


2;/oF'°CSfGr^''°   VOLSUMG 


^^^53    00ib34l0    t. 


^■V 


THE   STORY 


SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG 


AND  THE 


FALL  OF  THE  NIBLUNGS. 


BY 


WILLIAM    MORRIS, 

&UTKOR  OF  "THE  EARTHLY  PARADISE,"    "THE   LIFE  AND  DEATH  OP    jASOr^ 
"THE  ^NEIDS  OF   VIRGIL,"    (TRANSLATED.) 


NEW   IMPRESSION 


LONGMANS,    GREEN,    AND    CO. 

FOURTH  AVENUE  &^  30TH  STREET,  NEW  YORK 
LONDON,  BOMBAY  AND   CALCUTTA 

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CONTENTS. 


Book  I. 
SIGMUND 


PAGH 


OJ  the  dwelling  of  King   Volsung,  and  the  wedding  of  Signy  his 

daughter < 

How  the  Vblsungs  fared  to  the  Land  of  the  Goths,  and  of  the  fall  of 

King  Volsung la 

Of  the  ending  of  all  Volsung' s  Sons  save  Sigmund  only,  and  of  how  he 

abideth  in  the  wild  wood        .         .         .         .         .         .         .         19 

Of  the  birth  and  fostering  of  Sinfiotli  Signy* s  Son    ,         ...         27 

Of  the  slaying  of  Siggeir  the  Goth-king 40 

How  Sigmund  cometh  to  the  Land  of  the  Volsungs  again,  and  of  the 

death  of  Sinftotli  his  Son         .......         47 

Of  the  last  battle  of  King  Sigmund,  and  the  death  of  him  .         .         .         55 

How  King  Sigmund  the  Volsung  was  laid  in  mound  on  the  sea-side  of 

the  Lsle-realm         .........         63 

How  Queen  Hiordis  is  known  ;  and  how  she  abideth  in  the  house  of 

Elf  the  S071  of  the  Helper 66 


▼i  CONTKNTa. 

Book  II. 
REGIN. 

»AGO 

Of  the  birth  of  Sigurd  the  son  of  Sigmund                        .         .         ,  69 

Sigurd  getteth  to  him  the  horse  that  is  called  Griyfell                           .  75 

Regin  telleth  Sigurd  of  his  kindred,  and  of  the  Gold  that  was  accursed 

from  ancient  days 82 

Of  the  forging  of  the  Sword  that  is  called  The  Wrath  of  Sigurd       .  loi 

Of  Gripir's  Foretelling    .                  108 

Sigurd  rideth  to  the  Glittering  Heath 115 

Sigurd  slayeth  Fafmr  the  Serpent 121 

Sigurd  slayeth  Regin  the  Master  of  Masters  on  the  Glittering  Heath  .  127 

How  Sigurd  took  to  him  the  Treasure  of  the  Elf  Andvari                  ,  132 

How  Sigurd  awoke  Brynhild  upon  Hindf ell     .  .         .         .135 


Book  III. 
BRYNHILD. 

Of  the  Dream  of  Gudrun  the  Daughter  of  Giuki    .         .         .         .148 
How  the  folk  of-  Lymdale  met  Sigurd  the  Volsungin  the  woodland  158 

How  Sigurd  met  Brynhild  in  Lymdale 162 

Of  Sigurd's  riding  to  the  Nib  lungs ,         .168 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

PAGB 


Of  Sigurd's  warfaring  in  the  company  of  the  JViblungs,  and  of  his 

great  fame  and  glory     .         .         ,         .         .         .         .         .177 

Of  the  Cup  of  evil  drink  that  Grimhild  the  wise-wife  gave  to  Sigurd      184 

Of  the  Wedding  of  Sigurd  the  Volsung 195 

Sigurd  rideth  with  the  Niblungs^  and  wooeth  Brynhild  for  King 

Gunnar 204 

How  Brynhild  was  wedded  to  Gunnar  the  Niblung        .         ,         .       221 

Of  the  Contention  betwixt  the  Queens         .         .         ...         .         .228 

Gunnar  talketh  with  Brynhild        .         .         .         .         .         .         .241 

Of  the  exceeding  great  grief  and  mourning  of  Brynhild    .         .         .245 

Of  the  slaying  of  Sigurd  the  Volsung 253 

Of  the  mighty  Grief  of  Gudrun  over  Sigurd  dead    .         .         .         .263 

Of  the  passing  away  of  Brynhild 268 


Book    IV. 
GUDRUN. 

King  Atli  wooeth  and  weddeth  Gudrun 276 

Atli  biddeth  the  Niblungs  to  him 287 

How  the  Niblungs  fare  to  the  Land  of  King  Atli      .         .         .         .297 
Atli  speaketh  with  the  Niblungs  .         .  ,         .         -309 

Of  the  Battle  in  Atli' s  Hall 316 

Of  the  Slaying  of  the  Niblung  Kings        .         .         ,         .         .         .323 
The  Ending  of  Gudrun 338 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

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THE   STORY 


OP 


SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNCx 


AND  THE 


FALL  OF  THE  NIBLUNGS. 


BOOK    I. 

SIGMUND. 

IN  TV^S  BOOK  IS  TOLD  OF  THE  EARLIER  DAYS  OF  THE  VOLSUNGS,  AND  OF 
SIGMUND  THE  FATHER  OF  SIGURD,  AND  OF  HIS  DEEDS,  AND  OF  HOW  HE 
DIED  WHILE  SIGURD  WAS  YET  UNBORN  IN  HIS  MOTHER'S  WOMB. 

0/  the  dwelling  of  King  Volsung,  and  the  wedding  of  Signy\  his  daughter. 

T^HERE  was  a  dwelling  of  kings  ere  the  world  was  waxen  old ; 
-■-       Dukes  were  the  door-wards  there,  and  the  roofs  were  thatched  with 
gold; 
Earls  were  the  wrights  that  wrought  it,  and  silver  nailed  its  doors ; 
Earls'  wives  were  the  weaving-women,  queens'  daughters  strewed  its  floors, 
And  the  masters  of  its  song-craft  were  the  mightiest  men  that  cast 
The  sails  of  the  storm  of  battle  adown  the  bickering  blast. 
There  dwelt  men  merry-hearted,  and  in  hope  exceeding  great 
Met  the  good  days  and  the  evil  as  they  went  the  way  of  fate : 
There  the  Gods  were  unforgotten,  yea  whiles  they  walked  with  men, 
Though  e'en  in  that  world's  beginning  rose  a  murmur  now  and  again 


2  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Of  the  midward  time  and  the  fading  and  the  last  of  the  latter  days, 
And  the  entering  in  of  the  terror,  and  the  death  of  the  People's  Praise. 

Thus  was  the  dwelling  of  Volsung,  the  King  of  the  Midworld's  Mark, 

As  a  rose  in  the  winter  season,  a  candle  in  the  dark ; 

And  as  in  all  other  matters  'twas  all  earthly  houses'  crown, 

And  the  least  of  its  wall-hung  shields  was  a  battle-world's  renown, 

So  therein  withal  was  a  marvel  and  a  glorious  thing  to  see, 

For  amidst  of  its  midmost  hall-floor  sprang  up  a  mighty  tree, 

That  reared  its  blessings  roofward,  and  wreathed  the  roof-tree  dear 

With  the  glory  of  the  summer  and  the  garland  of  the  year. 

I  know  not  how  they  called  it  ere  Volsung  changed  his  life, 

But  his  dawning  of  fair  promise,  and  his  noontide  of  the  strife, 

His  eve  of  the  battle-reaping  and  the  garnering  of  his  fame 

Have  bred  us  many  a  story  and  named  us  many  a  name ; 

And  when  men  tell  of  Volsung,  they  call  that  war-duke's  tree. 

That  crowned  stem,  the  Branstock ;  and  so  was  it  told  unto  me. 

So  there  was  the  throne  of  Volsung  beneath  its  blossoming  bower, 
But  high  o'er  the  roof-crest  red  it  rose  'twixt  tower  and  tower. 
And  therein  were  the  wild  hawks  dwelling,  abiding  the  dole  of  their  lord 
And  they  wailed  high  over  the  wine,  and  laughed  to  the  waking  sword. 

Still  were  its  boughs  but  for  them,  when  lo  on  an  even  of  May 
Comes  a  man  from  Siggeir  the  King  with  a  word  for  his  mouth  to  say  : 
"All  hail  to  thee  King  Volsung,  from  the  King  of  the  Goths  I  come: 
He  hath  heard  of  thy  sword  victorious  and  thine  abundant  home ; 
He  hath  heard  of  thy  sons  in  the  battle,  the  fillers  of  Odin's  hall ; 
And  a  word  hath  the  west-wind  blown  him,  (full  fruitful  be  its  fall  !) 
A  word  of  thy  daughter  Signy  the  crown  of  womanhood : 
Now  he  deems  thy  friendship  goodly,  and  thine  help  in  the  battle  good, 
And  for  these  will  he  give  his  friendship  and  his  battle-aid  again : 
But  if  thou  wouldst  grant  his  asking,  and  make  his  heart  full  fain 


BOOK  1.     SIGMUND.  3 

Then  shalt  thou  give  him  a  matter,  saith  he,  without  a  price, 
— Signy  the  fairer  than  fair,  Signy  the  wiser  than  wise." 

Such  words  in  the  hall  of  the  Volsungs  spake  the  Earl  of  Siggeir  the  Goth 

Bearing  the  gifts  and  the  gold,  the  ring,  and  the  tokens  of  troth. 

But  the  King's  heart  laughed  within  him  and  the  King's  sons  deemed  it 

good; 
For  they  dreamed  how  they  fared  with  the  Goths  o'er  ocean  and  acre  and 
Till  all  the  north  was  theirs,  and  the  utmost  southern  lands.  [wood, 

But  nought  said  the  snow-white  Signy  as  she  sat  with  folded  hands 
And  gazed  at  the  Goth-king's  Earl  till  his  heart  grew  heavy  and  cold, 
As  one  that  half  remembers  a  tale  that  the  elders  have  told, 
A  story  of  weird  and  of  woe  :  then  spake  King  Volsung  and  said  : 

*'  A  great  king  woos  thee,  daughter ;  wilt  thou  lie  in  a  great  king's  bed, 
And  bear  earth's  kings  on  thy  bosom,  that  our  name  may  never  die  ? " 

A  fire  lit  up  her  face,  and  her  voice  was  e'en  as  a  cry  : 
"  I  will  sleep  in  a  great  king's  bed,  I  will  bear  the  lords  of  the  earth, 
And  the  wrack  and  the  grief  of  my  youth-days  shall  be  held  for  nothing 

[worth." 
Then  would  he  question  her  kindly,  as  one  who  loved  her  sore, 
But  she  put  forth  her  hand  and  smiled,  and  her  face  was  flushed  no  more  • 
"  Would  God  it  might  otherwise  be !  but  wert  thou  to  will  it  not, 
Yet  should  I  will  it  and  wed  him,  and  rue  my  life  and  my  lot." 

Lowly  and  soft  she  said  it ;  but  spake  out  louder  now : 
"  Be  of  good  cheer,  King  Volsung !  for  such  a  man  art  thou, 
That  what  thou  dost  well-counselled,  goodly  and  fair  it  is. 
And  what  thou  dost  unwitting,  the  Gods  have  bidden  thee  this : 
So  work  all  things  together  for  the  fame  of  thee  and  thine. 
And  now  raeseems  at  my  wedding  shall  be  a  hallowed  sign, 


4  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

That  shall  give  thine  heart  a  joyance,  whate'er  shall  follow  after." 

[laughter 
She  spake,  and  the  feast  sped  on,  and  the  speech  and  the  song  and  the 
Went  over  the  words  of  boding  as  the  tide  of  the  norland  main 
Sweeps  over  the  hidden  skerry,  the  home  of  the  shipman's  bane. 

So  wendeth  his  way  on  the  morrow  that  Earl  of  the  Gothland  King 

Bearing  the  gifts  and  the  gold,  and  King  Volsung's  tokening. 

And  a  word  in  his  mouth  moreover,  a  word  of  blessing  and  hail, 

And  a  bidding  to  King  Siggeir  to  come  ere  the  June-tide  fail 

And  wed  him  to  white-hand  Signy  and  bear  away  his  bride. 

While  sleepeth  the  field  of  the  fishes  amidst  the  summer-tide.  v 

So  on  Mid-Summer  Even  ere  the  undark  night  began 

Siggeir  the  King  of  the  Goth-folk  went  up  from  the  bath  of  the  swan 

Unto  the  Volsung  dwelling  with  many  an  Earl  about ; 

There  through  the  glimmering  thicket  the  linked  mail  rang  out. 

And  sang  as  mid  the  woodways  sings  the  summer-hidden  ford : 

There  were  gold-rings  God-fashioned,  and  many  a  Dwarf-wrought  sword. 

And  many  a  Queen-wrought  kirtle  and  many  a  written  spear ; 

So  came  they  to  the  acres,  and  drew  the  threshold  near, 

And  amidst  of  the  garden  blossoms,  on  the  grassy,  fruit-grown  land 

Was  Volsung  the  King  of  the  Wood-world  with  his  sons  on  either  hand ; 

Therewith  down  lighted  Siggeir  the  lord  of  a  mighty  folk. 

Yet  showed  he  by  King  Volsung  as  the  bramble  by  the  oak, 

Nor  reached  his  helm  to  the  shoulder  of  the  least  of  Volsung's  sons. 

And  so  into  the  hall  they  wended,  the  Kings  and  their  mighty  ones ; 

And  they  dight  the  feast  full  glorious,  and  drank  through  the  death  of  the 

Till  the  shadowless  moon  rose  upward,  till  it  wended  white  away ;       [day, 

Then  they  went  to  the  gold-hung  beds,  and  at  last  for  an  hour  or  twain 

Were  all  things  still  and  silent,  save  a  flaw  of  the  summer  rain. 

But  on  the  morrow  noontide  when  the  sun  was  high  and  bare, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  5 

More  glorious  was  the  banquet,  and  now  was  Signy  there, 

And  she  sat  beside  King  Siggeir,  a  glorious  bride  forsooth ; 

Ruddy  and  white  was  she  wrought  as  the  fair-stained  sea-beast's  tooth, 

But  she  neither  laughed  nor  spake,  and  her  eyes  were  hard  and  cold, 

And  with  wandering  side-long  looks  her  lord  would  she  behold. 

That  saw  Sigmund  her  brother,  the  eldest  Volsung  son. 

And  oft  he  looked  upon  her,  and  their  eyes  met  now  and  anon, 

And  ruth  arose  in  his  heart,  and  hate  of  Siggeir  the  Goth, 

And  there  had  he  broken  the  wedding,  but  for  plighted  promise  and  troth. 

But  those  twain  were  beheld  of  Siggeir,  and  he  deemed  of  the  Volsung  kin, 

That  amid  their  might  and  their  malice  small  honor  should  he  win : 

Yet  thereof  made  he  no  semblance,  but  abided  times  to  be 

And  laughed  out  with  the  loudest,  amid  the  hope  and  the  glee. 

And  nought  of  all  saw  Volsung,  as  he  dreamed  of  the  coming  glory, 

And  how  the  Kings  of  his  kindred  should  fashion  the  round  world's  story 

So  round  about  the  Branstock  they  feast  in  the  gleam  of  the  gold ; 

And  though  the  deeds  of  man-folk  were  not  yet  waxen  old. 

Yet  had  they  tales  for  songcraft,  and  the  blossomed  garth  of  rhyme , 

Tales  of  the  framing  of  all  things  and  the  entering  in  of  time 

From  the  halls  of  the  outer  heaven ;  so  near  they  knew  the  door. 

Wherefore  uprose  a  sea-king,  and  his  hands  that  loved  the  oar 

Now  dealt  with  the  rippling  harp-gold,  and  he  sang  of  the  shaping  of  earthy 

And  how  the  stars  were  lighted,  and  where  the  winds  had  birth. 

And  the  gleam  of  the  first  of  summers  on  the  yet  untrodden  grass. 

But  e'en  as  men's  hearts  were  hearkening  some  heard  the  thunder  pass 

O'er  the  cloudless  noontide  heaven ;  and  some  men  turned  about 

And  deemed  that  in  the  doorway  they  heard  a  man  laugh  out. 

Then  into  the  Volsung  dwelling  a  mighty  man  there  strode, 

One-eyed  and  seeming  ancient,  yet  bright  his  visage  glowed : 

Cloud-blue  was  the  hood  upon  him,  and  his  kirtle  gleaming-grey 

As  the  latter  morning  sundog  when  the  storm  is  on  the  way : 

A  bill  he  bore  on  his  shoulder,  whose  mighty  ashen  beam 


6  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Burnt  bright  with  the  flame  of  the  sea  and  the  blended^silver's  gleam. 
And  such  was  the  guise  of  his  raiment  as  the  Volsung  elders  had  told 
Was  borne  by  their  fathers'  fathers,  and  the  first  that  warred  in  the  wold 

So  strode  he  to  the  Branstock  nor  greeted  any  lord, 
But  forth  from  his  cloudy  raiment  he  drew  a  gleaming  sword, 
And  smote  it  deep  in  the  tree-bole,  and  the  wild  hawks  overhead 
Laughed  'neath  the  naked  heaven  as  at  last  he  spake  and  said : 
"  Earls  of  the  Goths,  and  Volsungs,  abiders  on  the  earth, 
Lo  there  amid  the  Branstock  a  blade  of  plenteous  worth ! 
The  folk  of  the  war-wand's  forgers  wrought  never  better  steel 
Since  first  the  burg  of  heaven  uprose  for  man-folk's  weal. 
Now  let  the  man  among  you  whose  heart  and  hand  may  shift 
To  pluck  it  from  the  oakwood  e'en  take  it  for  my  gift. 
Then  ne'er,  but  his  own  heart  falter,  its  point  and  edge  shall  fail 
Until  the  night's  beginning  and  the  ending  of  the  tale. 
Be  merry  Earls  of  the  Goth-folk,  O  Volsung  Sons  be  wise. 
And  reap  the  battle-acre  that  ripening  for  your  lies  : 
For  they  told  me  in  the  wild  wood,  I  heard  on  the  mountain  side 
That  the  shining  house  of  heaven  is  wrought  exceeding  wide, 
And  that  there  the  Early-comers  shall  have  abundant  rest 
While  Earth  grows  scant  of  great  ones,  and  fadeth  from  its  best, 
And  fadeth  from  its  midward  and  groweth  poor  and  vile  :  — 
All  hail  to  thee  King  Volsung  !  farewell  for  a  little  while  !  " 

So  sweet  his  speaking  sounded,  so  wise  his  words  did  seem 

That  moveless  all  men  sat  there,  as  in  a  happy  dream 

We  stir  not  lest  we  waken ;  but  there  his  speech  had  end 

And  slowly  down  the  hall-floor,  and  outward  did  he  wend  ; 

And  none  would  cast  him  a  question  or  follow  on  his  ways. 

For  they  knew  that  the  gift  was  Odin's,  a  sword  for  the  world  to  praise. 

But  now  spake  Volsung  the  King :  "Why  sit  ye  silent  and  still  ? 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  7 

Is  the  Battle-Father's  visage  a  token  of  terror  and  ill  ? 

Arise  O  Volsung  Children,  Earls  of  the  Goths  arise, 

And  set  your  hands  to  the  hilts  as  mighty  men  and  wise ! 

Yet  deem  it  not  too  easy ;  for  belike  a  fateful  blade 

Lies  there  in  the  heart  of  the  Branstock  for  a  fated  warrior  made." 

Now  therewith  spake  King  Siggeir :  "  King  Volsung  give  me  a  grace 
To  try  it  the  first  of  all  men,  lest  another  win  my  place 
And  mere  chance-hap  steal  my  glory  and  the  gain  that  I  might  win." 
Then  somewhat  laughed  King  Volsung,  and  he  said :  "  O  Guest,  begin ; 
Though  herein  is  the  first  as  the  last,  for  the  Gods  have  long  to  live, 
Nor  hath  Odin  yet  forgotten  unto  whom  the  gift  he  would  give." 

Then  forth  to  the  tree  went  Siggeir,  the  Goth-folk's  mighty  lord. 

And  laid  his  hand  on  the  gemstones,  and  strained  at  the  glorious  sword 

Till  his  heart  grew  black  with  anger ;  and  never  a  word  he  said 

As  he  wended  back  to  the  high-seat :  but  Signy  waxed  blood-red 

When  he  sat  him  adown  beside  her ;  and  her  heart  was  nigh  to  break 

For  the  shame  and  the  fateful  boding :  and  therewith  King  Volsung  spake 

"*  Thus  comes  back  empty-handed  the  mightiest  King  of  Earth, 
And  how  shall  the  feeble  venture  ?  yet  each  man  knows  his  worth , 
And  today  may  a  great  beginning  from  a  little  seed  upspring 
To  o'erpass  many  a  great  one  that  hath  the  name  of  King : 
So  stand  forth  free  and  unfree  j  stand  forth  both  most  and  least, 
But  first  ye  earls  of  the  Goth-folk,  ye  lovely  lords  we  feast." 

trpstood  the  Earls  of  Siggeir,  and  each  man  drew  anigh 

And  deemed  his  time  was  coming  for  a  glorious  gain  and  high ; 

But  for  all  their  mighty  shaping  and  their  deeds  in  the  battle-wood 

No  looser  in  the  Branstock  that  gift  of  Odin  stood. 

Then  uprose  Volsung's  homemen,  and  the  fell-abiding  folk ; 

And  the  yellow-headed  shepherds  came  gathering  round  the  Oak, 


8  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  the  searchers  of  the  thicket  and  the  dealers  with  the  oar :  . 

And  the  least  and  the  worst  of  them  all  was  a  mighty  man  of  war. 

But  for  all  their  mighty  shaping,  and  the  struggle  and  the  strain 

Of  their  hands,  the  deft  in  labour,  they  tugged  thereat  in  vain ; 

And  still  as  the  shouting  and  jeers,  and  the  names  of  men  and  the  laughter 

Beat  backward  from  gable  to  gable,  and  rattled  o'er  roof-tree  and  rafter, 

Moody  and  still  sat  Siggeir ;  for  he  said :  "  They  have  trained  me  here 

As  a  mock  for  their  woodland  bondsmen  ;  and  yet  shall  they  buy  it  dear/ 

Now  the  tumult  sank  a  little,  and  men  cried  on  Volsung  the  King 

And  his  sons,  the  hedge  of  battle,  to  try  the  fateful  thing. 

So  Volsung  laughed,  and  answered :  "  I  will  set  me  to  the  toil, 

Lest  these  my  guests  of  the  Goth-folk  should  deem  I  fear  the  foil. 

Yet  nought  am  I  ill-sworded,  and  the  oldest  friend  is  best ; 

And  this,  my  hand's  first  fellow,  will  I  bear  to  the  grave-mound's  rest, 

Nor  wield  meanwhile  another :  Yea  this  shall  I  have  in  hand 

When  mid  the  host  of  Odin  in  the  Day  of  Doom  I  stand." 

Therewith  from  his  belt  of  battle  he  raised  the  golden  sheath. 
And  showed  the  peace-strings  glittering  about  the  hidden  death : 
Then  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  Branstock,  and  cried :  "  O  tree  beloved, 
I  thank  thee  of  thy  good-heart  that  so  little  thou  art  moved : 
Abide  thou  thus,  green  bower,  when  I  am  dead  and  gone 
And  the  best  of  all  my  kindred  a  better  day  hath  won ! " 

Then  as  a  young  man  laughed  he,  and  on  the  hilts  of  gold 
His  hand,  the  battle-breaker,  took  fast  and  certain  hold. 
And  long  he  drew  and  strained  him,  but  mended  not  the  tale, 
Yet  none  the  more  thereover  his  mirth  of  heart  did  fail ; 
But  he  wended  to  the  high-seat  and  thence  began  to  cry : 

"Sons  I  have  gotten  and  cherished,  now  stand  ye  forth  to  try; 
Lest  Odin  tell  in  God-home  how  from  the  way  he  strayed, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  9 

And  how  to  the  man  he  would  not  he  gave  away  his  blade." 

So  therewithal  rose  Rerir,  and  wasted  might  and  main ; 
Then  Gunthiof,  and  then  Hunthiof  they  wearied  them  in  vain. 
Nought  was  the  might  of  Agnar ;  nought  Helgi  could  avail ; 
Sigi  the  tall  and  Solar  no  further  brought  the  tale, 
Nor  Geirmund  the  priest  of  the  temple,  nor  Gylfi  of  the  wood. 

At  last  by  the  side  of  the  Branstock  Sigmund  the  Volsung  stood, 

And  with  right  hand  wise  in  battle  the  precious  sword-hilt  caught, 

Yet  in  a  careless  fashion,  as  he  deemed  it  all  for  nought : 

When  lo,  from  floor  to  rafter  went  up  a  shattering  shout, 

For  aloft  in  the  hand  of  Sigmund  the  naked  blade  shone  out 

As  high  o'er  his  head  he  shook  it :  for  the  sword  had  come  away 

From  the  grip  of  the  heart  of  the  Branstock,  as  though  all  loose  it  lay. 

A  little  while  he  stood  there  mid  the  glory  of  the  hall. 

Like  the  best  of  the  trees  of  the  garden,  when  the  April  sunbeams  fall 

On  its  blossomed  boughs  in  the  morning,  and  tell  of  the  days  to  be ; 

Then  back  unto  the  high-seat  he  wended  soberly ; 

For  this  was  the  thought  within  him  :  Belike  the  day  shall  come 

When  I  shall  bide  here  lonely  amid  the  Volsung  home, 

Its  glory  and  sole  avenger,  its  after-summer  seed. 

Yea,  I  am  the  hired  of  Odin,  his  workday  will  to  speed, 

And  the  harvest-tide  shall  be  heavy. —  What  then,  were  it  come  and  past 

And  I  laid  by  the  last  of  the  sheaves  with  my  wages  earned  at  the  last? 

He  lifted  his  eyes  as  he  thought  it,  for  now  was  he  come  to  his  place 

And  there  he  stood  by  his  father  and  met  Siggeir  face  to  face. 

And  he  saw  him  blithe  and  smiling,  and  heard  him  how  he  spake : 

"  O  best  of  the  sons  of  Volsung,  I  am  merry  for  thy  sake 

And  the  glory  that  thou  hast  gained  us  ;  but  whereas  thine  hand  and  heart 

Are  e'en  now  the  lords  of  the  battle,  how  lack'st  thou  for  thy  part 

A  matter  to  better  the  best  ?    Wilt  thou  overgild  fine  gold 


lo  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Or  dye  the  red  rose  redder  ?     So  I  prithee  let  me  h  old 

This  sword  that  comes  to  thine  hand  on  the  day  I  wed  thy  kin. 

For  at  home  have  I  a  store-house ;  there  is  mountain-gold  therein 

The  weight  of  a  war-king's  harness ;  there  is  silver  plenteous  store  ; 

There  is  iron,  and  huge-wrought  amber,  that  the  southern  men  love  sore, 

When  they  sell  me  the  woven  wonder,  the  purple  born  of  the  sea ; 

And  it  hangeth  up  in  that  bower ;  and  all  this  is  a  gift  for  thee : 

But  the  sword  that  came  to  my  wedding,  methinketh  it  meet  and  right 

That  it  lie  on  my  knees  in  the  council  and  stead  me  in  the  fight." 

But  Sigmund  laughed  and  answered,  and  he  spake  a  scornful  word : 
"  And  if  I  take  twice  that  treasure,  will  it  buy  me  Odin's  sword. 
And  the  gift  that  the  Gods  have  given  ?  will  it  buy  me  again  to  stand 
Betwixt  two  mightiest  world-kings  with  a  longed-for  thing  in  mine  hand 
That  all  their  might  hath  missed  of  ?  when  the  purple-selling  men 
Come  buying  thine  iron  and  amber,  dost  thou  sell  thine  honour  then  ? 
Do  they  wrap  it  in  bast  of  the  linden,  or  run  it  in  moulds  of  earth? 
And  shalt  thou  account  mine  honour  as  a  matter  of  lesser  worth  ? 
Came  the  sword  to  thy  wedding,  Goth-king,  to  thine  hand  it  never  came 
And  thence  is  thine  envy  whetted  to  deal  me  this  word  of  shame." 

Black  then  was  the  heart  of  Siggeir,  but  his  face  grew  pale  and  red. 

Till  he  drew  a  smile  thereover,  and  spake  the  word  and  said : 

"  Nay,  pardon  me,  Signy's  kinsman  !  when  the  heart  desires  o'ermuch 

It  teacheth  the  tongue  ill  speaking,  and  my  word  belike  was  such. 

But  the  honour  of  thee  and  thy  kindred,  I  hold  it  even  as  mine, 

And  I  love  you  as  my  heart-blood,  and  take  ye  this  for  a  sign. 

I  bid  thee  now  King  Volsung,  and  these  thy  glorious  sons. 

And  thine  earls  and  thy  dukes  of  battle  and  all  thy  mighty  ones 

To  come  to  the  house  of  the  Goth-kings  as  honoured  guests  and  dear 

And  abide  the  winter  over  j  that  the  dusky  days  and  drear 

May  be  glorious  with  thy  presence,  that  all  folk  may  praise  my  life. 

And  the  friends  that  my  fame  hath  gotten ;  and  that  this  my  new-wed  wife 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  ii 

Thine  eyes  may  make  the  merrier  till  she  bear  my  eldest  born." 

Then  speedily  answered  Volsung :  "  No  king  of  the  earth  might  scorn 

Such  noble  bidding,  Siggeir ;  and  surely  will  I  come 

To  look  upon  thy  glory  and  the  Goths'  abundant  home. 

But  let  two  months  wear  over,  for  I  have  many  a  thing 

To  shape  and  shear  in  the  Woodland,  as  befits  a  people's  king : 

And  thou  meanwhile  here  abiding  of  all  my  goods  shalt  be  free, 

And  then  shall  we  twain  together  roof  over  the  glass-green  sea 

With  the  sides  of  our  golden  dragons ;  and  our  war-hosts'  blended  shields 

Shall  fright  the  sea-abiders  and  the  folk  of  the  fishy  fields." 

Answered  the  smooth-speeched  Siggeir :  "  I  thank  thee  well  for  this, 

And  thy  bidding  is  most  kingly ;  yet  take  it  not  amiss 

That  I  wend  my  ways  in  the  morning ;  for  we  Goth-folk  know  indeed 

That  the  sea  is  a  foe  full  deadly,  and  a  friend  that  fails  at  need, 

And  that  Ran  who  dwells  thereunder  will  many  a  man  beguile : 

And  I  bear  a  woman  with  me ;  nor  would  I  for  a  while 

Behold  that  sea-queen's  dwelling ;  for  glad  at  heart  am  I 

Of  the  realm  of  the  Goths  and  the  Volsungs,  and  I  look  for  long  to  lie 

In  the  arms  of  the  fairest  woman  that  ever  a  king  may  kiss. 

So  I  go  mine  house  to  order  for  the  increase  of  thy  bliss. 

That  there  in  nought  but  joyance  all  we  may  wear  the  days 

And  that  men  of  the  time  hereafter  the  more  our  lives  may  praise." 

And  for  all  the  words  of  Volsung  e'en  so  must  the  matter  be, 

And  Siggeir  the  Goth  and  Signy  on  the  morn  shall  sail  the  sea. 

But  the  feast  sped  on  the  fairer,  and  the  more  they  waxed  in  disport 

And  the  glee  that  all  men  love,  as  they  knew  that  the  hours  were  short. 

Yet  a  boding  heart  bare  Sigmund  amid  his  singing  and  laughter ; 

And  somewhat  Signy  wotted  of  the  deeds  that  were  coming  after ; 

For  the  wisest  of  women  she  was,  and  many  a  thing  she  knew ;  [would  do, 

She  would  hearken  the  voice  of  the  midnight  till  she  heard  what  the  Gods 


12  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  her  feet  fared  oft  on  the  wild,  and  deep  was  her  communing 

With  the  heart  of  the  glimmering  woodland,  where  never  a  fowl  may  sing. 

So  fair  sped  on  the  feasting  amid  the  gleam  of  the  gold. 

Amid  the  wine  and  the  joyance ;  and  many  a  tale  was  told 

To  the  harp-strings  of  that  wedding,  whereof  the  latter  days 

Yet  hold  a  little  glimmer  to  wonder  at  and  praise. 

Then  the  undark  night  drew  over,  and  faint  the  high  stars  shone. 

And  there  on  the  beds  blue-woven  the  slumber-tide  they  won ; 

Yea  while  on  the  brightening  mountain  the  herd-boy  watched  his  sheep, 

Yet  soft  on  the  breast  of  Signy  King  Siggeir  lay  asleep. 

How  the  Volsungs  fared  to  the  Land  of  the  Goths^  and  of  the  fall 
of  King  Volsung, 

Now  or  ever  the  sun  shone  houseward,  unto  King  Volsung's  bed 

Came  Signy  stealing  barefoot,  and  she  spake  the  word  and  said : 

"  Awake  and  hearken,  my  father,  for  though  the  wedding  be  done, 

And  I  am  the  wife  of  the  Goth-king,  yet  the  Volsungs  are  not  gone. 

So  I  come  as  a  dream  of  the  night,  with  a  word  that  the  Gods  would  say. 

And  think  thou  thereof  in  the  day-tide,  and  let  Siggeir  go  on  his  way 

With  me  and  the  gifts  and  the  gold,  but  do  ye  abide  in  the  land. 

Nor  trust  in  the  guileful  heart  and  the  murder-loving  hand. 

Lest  the  kin  of  the  Volsungs  perish,  and  the  world  be  nothing  worth." 

So  came  the  word  unto  Volsung,  and  wit  in  his  heart  had  birth ; 
And  he  sat  upright  in  the  bed  and  kissed  her  on  the  lips ; 
But  he  said  :  "  My  word  is  given,  it  is  gone  like  the  spring-tide  ships  : 
To  death  or  to  life  must  I  journey  when  the  months  are  come  to  an  end 
Yet  my  sons  my  words  shall  hearken,  and  shall  nowise  with  me  wend." 

Then  she  answered,  speaking  swiftly :  "  Nay  have  thy  sons  with  thee ; 
Gather  an  host  together  and  a  mighty  company, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  13 

And  meet  the  guile  and  the  death-snare  with  battle  and  with  wrack." 

He  said :  "  Nay  my  troth-word  plighted  e'en  so  should  I  draw  aback : 
I  shall  go  a  guest,  as  my  word  was  ;  of  whom  shall  I  be  afraid  ? 
For  an  outworn  elder's  ending  shall  no  mighty  moan  be  made." 

Then  answered  Signy,  weeping  :  "  I  shall  see  thee  yet  again 
When  the  battle  thou  arrayest  on  the  Goth-folk's  strand  in  vain. 
Heavy  and  hard  are  the  Norns :  but  each  man  his  burden  bears  ; 
And  what  am  I  to  fashion  the  fate  of  the  coming  years  ? " 

She  wept  and  she  wended  back  to  the  Goth-king's  bolster  blue, 
And  Volsung  pondered  awhile  till  slumber  over  him  drew  j 
But  when  once  more  he  wakened,  the  kingly  house  was  up 
And  the  homemen  gathered  together  to  drink  the  parting  cup  : 
And  grand  amid  the  hall-floor  was  the  Goth-king  in  his  gear, 
And  Signy  clad  for  faring  stood  by  the  Branstock  dear 
With  the  earls  of  the  Goths  about  her :  so  queenly  did  she  seem, 
So  calm  and  ruddy  colored,  that  Volsung  well  might  deem 
That  her  words  were  a  fashion  of  slumber,  a  vision  of  the  night. 
But  they  drank  the  wine  of  departing,  and  brought  the  horses  dight, 
And  forth  abroad  the  Goth-folk,  and  the  Volsung  Children  rode 
Noi  ever  once  would  Signy  look  back  to  that  abode. 

So  down  over  acre  and  heath  they  rode  to  the  side  of  the  sea 
And  there  by  the  long-ships'  bridges  was  the  ship-host's  company. 
Then  Signy  kissed  her  brethren  with  ruddy  mouth  and  warm 
Nor  was  there  one  of  the  Goth-folk  but  blessed  her  from  all  harm ; 
Then  sweet  she  kissed  her  father  and  hung  about  his  neck,  [deck, 

And  sure  she  whispered  him  somewhat  ere  she  passed  forth  toward  the 
Though  nought  I  know  to  tell  it ;  then  Siggeir  hailed  them  fair, 
And  called  forth  many  a  blessing  on  the  hearts  that  bode  his  snare. 
Then  were  the  gangways  shipped,  and  blown  was  the  parting  horn 


14  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  the  striped  sails  drew  with  the  wind,  and  away  was  Signy  borne 
White  on  the  shielded  long-ship,  a  grief  in  the  heart  of  the  gold ; 
Nor  once  would  she  turn  her  about  the  strand  of  her  folk  to  behold. 

Thenceforward  dwelt  the  Volsungs  in  exceeding  glorious  state, 

And  merry  lived  King  Volsung,  abiding  the  day  of  his  fate  ; 

But  when  the  months  aforesaid  were  well-nigh  worn  away 

To  his  sons  and  his  folk  of  counsel  he  fell  these  words  to  say  : 

"  Ye  mind  you  of  Signy's  wedding  and  of  my  plighted  troth 

To  go  in  two  months'  wearing  to  the  house  of  Siggeir  the  Goth : 

Nor  will  I  hide  how  Signy  then  spake  a  warning  word 

And  did  me  to  wit  that  her  husband  was  a  grim  and  guileful  lord, 

And  would  draw  us  to  our  undoing  for  envy  and  despite 

Concerning  the  Sword  of  Odin,  and  for  dread  of  the  Volsung  might 

Now  wise  is  Signy  my  daughter  and  knoweth  nought  but  sooth  : 

Yet  are  there  seasons  and  times  when  for  longing  and  self-ruth 

The  hearts  of  women  wander,  and  this  maybe  is  such ; 

Nor  for  her  word  of  Siggeir,  will  I  trow  it  overmuch. 

Nor  altogether  doubt  it,  since  the  woman  is  wrought  so  wise ; 

Nor  much  might  my  heart  love  Siggeir  for  all  his  kingly  guise. 

Yet,  shall  a  king  hear  murder  when  a  king's  mouth  blessing  saith  ? 

So  maybe  he  is  bidding  me  honor,  and  maybe  he  is  bidding  me  death ; 

Let  him  do  after  his  fashion,  and  I  will  do  no  less. 

In  peace  will  I  go  to  his  bidding  let  the  spae-wrights  ban  or  bless ; 

And  no  man  now  or  hereafter  of  Volsung's  blenching  shall  tell. 

But  ye,  sons,  in  the  land  shall  tarry,  and  heed  the  realm  right  well. 

Lest  the  Volsung  Children  fade,  and  the  wide  world  worser  grow." 

But  with  one  voice  cried  all  men,  that  they  one  and  all  would  go 
To  gather  the  Goth-king's  honour,  or  let  one  fate  go  over  all 
If  he  bade  them  to  battle  and  murder,  till  each  by  each  should  fall. 
So  spake  the  sons  of  his  body,  and  the  wise  in  wisdom  and  war. 
Nor  yet  might  it  otherwise  be,  though  Volsung  bade  full  sore 


BOOK  I.  SIGMUND. 


»S 


That  he  go  in  some  ship  of  the  merchants  with  his  life  alone  in  his  hand ; 
With  such  love  he  loved  his  kindred,  and  the  people  of  his  land. 
But  at  last  he  said  : 

"  So  be  it ;  for  in  vain  I  war  with  fate, 
Who  can  raise  up  a  king  from  the  dunghill  and  make  the  feeble  great. 
We  will  go,  a  band  of  friends,  and  be  merry  whatever  shall  come, 
And  the  Gods,  mine  own  forefathers,  shall  take  counsel  of  our  home." 

So  now  when  all  things  were  ready,  in  the  first  of  the  autumn  tide 

Adown  unto  the  swan-bath  the  Volsung  Children  ride ; 

And  lightly  go  a  shipboard,  a  goodly  company, 

Though  the  tale  thereof  be  scanty  and  their  ships  no  more  than  three : 

But  kings'  sons  dealt  with  the  sail-sheets  and  earls  and  dukes  of  war 

Were  the  halers  of  the  hawsers  and  the  tuggers  at  the  oar. 

So  they  drew  the  bridges  shipward,  and  left  the  land  behind 

And  fair  astern  of  the  longships  sprang  up  a  following  wind  ; 

So  swift  o'er  ^gir's  acre  those  mighty  sailors  ran. 

And  speedier  than  all  other  ploughed  down  the  furrows  wan. 

And  they  came  to  the  land  of  the  Goth-folk  on  the  even  of  a  day ; 

And  lo  by  the  inmost  skerry  a  skiff  with  a  sail  of  gray 

That  as  they  neared  the  foreshore  ran  Volsung's  ship  aboard, 

And  there  was  come  white-hand  Signy  with  her  latest  warning  word. 

"  O  strange,"  she  said,  "  meseemeth,  O  sweet,  your  gear  to  see. 

And  the  well-loved  Volsung  faces,  and  the  hands  that  cherished  me. 

But  short  is  the  time  that  is  left  me  for  the  work  I  have  to  win 

Though  nought  it  be  but  the  speaking  of  a  word  ere  the  worst  begin. 

For  that  which  I  spake  aforetime,  the  seed  of  a  boding  drear, 

It  hath  sprung,  it  hath  blossomed  and  born  rank  harvest  of  the  speai . 

Siggeir  hath  dight  the  death-snare ;  he  hath  spread  the  shielded  net. 

But  ye  come  ere  the  hour  appointed,  and  he  looks  not  to  meet  you  yet. 

Now  blest  be  the  wind  that  wafted  your  sails  here  over-soon, 

For  thus  have  I  won  me  seaward  'twixt  the  twilight  and  the  moon, 


i6  THE   STORY  OF   SICxURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

To  pray  you  for  all  the  world's  sake  turn  back  from  the  murderous  shore 

—  Ah  take  me  hence,  my  father,  to  see  my  land  once  more  ! " 

Then  sweetly  Volsung  kissed  her :  "  Woe  am  I  for  thy  sake, 

But  Earth  the  word  hath  hearkened,  that  yet  unborn  I  spake ; 

How  I  ne'er  would  turn  me  backward  from  the  sword  or  the  fire  of  bale ; 

—  I  have  held  that  word  till  today,  and  today  shall  I  change  the  tale  ? 
And  look  on  these  thy  brethren,  how  goodly  and  great  are  they, 
Wouldst  thou  have  the  maidens  mock  them,  when  this  pain  hath  past  awa} 
And  they  sit  at  the  feast  hereafter,  that  they  feared  the  deadly  stroke  ? 
Let  us  do  our  day's  work  deftly  for  the  praise  and  the  glory  of  folk ; 
And  if  the  Norns  will  have  it  that  the  Volsung  kin  shall  fail. 

Yet  I  know  of  the  deed  that  dies  not,  and  the  name  that  shall  ever  avail." 

But  she  wept  as  one  sick-hearted :  "  Woe's  me  for  the  hope  of  the  morn  I 
Yet  send  me  not  back  unto  Siggeir  and  the  evil  days  and  the  scorn : 
Let  me  bide  the  death  as  ye  bide  it,  and  let  a  woman  feel 
That  hope  of  the  death  of  battle  and  the  rest  of  the  foeman's  steel." 

"  Nay  nay,"  he  said,  "go  backward ;  this  too  thy  fate  will  have  ; 

For  thou  art  the  wife  of  a  king,  and  many  a  matter  mayst  save. 

Farewell !  as  the  days  win  over,  as  sweet  as  a  tale  shall  it  grow. 

This  day  when  our  hearts  were  hardened ;  and  our  glory  thou  shalt  know, 

And  the  love  wherewith  we  loved  thee  mid  the  battle  and  the  wrack." 

She  kissed  them  and  departed,  and  mid  the  dusk  fared  back. 

And  she  sat  that  eve  in  the  high-seat ;  and  I  deem  that  Siggeir  knew 

The  way  that  her  feet  had  wended,  and  the  deed  she  went  to  do  : 

For  the  man  was  grim  and  guileful,  and  he  knew  that  the  snare  was  laid 

For  the  mountain  bull  unblenching  and  the  lion  unafraid. 

But  when  the  sun  on  the  morrow  shone  over  earth  and  sea 
Ashore  went  the  Volsung  Children  a  goodly  company, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  17 

And  toward  King  Siggeir's  dwelling  o'er  heath  and  holt  they  went. 
But  when  they  came  to  the  topmost  of  a  certain  grassy  bent, 
Lo  there  lay  the  land  before  them  as  thick  with  shield  and  spear 
As  the  rich  man's  wealthiest  acre  with  the  harvest  of  the  year. 
There  bade  King  Volsung  tarry  and  dight  the  wedge-array ; 
"  For  duly,"  he  said,  "  doeth  Siggeir  to  meet  his  guests  by  the  way." 
So  shield  by  shield  they  serried,  nor  ever  hath  been  told 
Of  any  host  of  battle  more  glorious  with  the  gold ; 
And  there  stood  the  high  King  Volsung  in  the  very  front  of  war ; 
And  lovelier  was  his  visage  than  ever  heretofore, 
As  he  rent  apart  the  peace-strings  that  his  brand  of  battle  bound 
And  the  bright  blade  gleamed  to  the  heavens,  and  he  cast  the  sheath  to 

[the  ground. 
Then  up  the  steep  came  the  Goth-folk,  and  the  spear- wood  drew  anigh. 
And  earth's  face  shook  beneath  them,  yet  cried  they  never  a  cry ; 
And  the  Volsungs  stood  all  silent,  although  forsooth  at  whiles 
O'er  the  faces  grown  earth-weary  would  play  the  flickering  smiles. 
And  swords  would  clink  and  rattle  :  not  long  had  they  to  bide. 
For  soon  that  flood  of  murder  flowed  round  the  hillock-side ; 
Then  at  last  the  edges  mingled,  and  if  men  forebore  the  shout, 
Yet  the  din  of  steel  and  iron  in  the  grey  clouds  rang  about ; 
But  how  to  tell  of  King  Volsung,  and  the  valor  of  his  folk ! 
Three  times  the  wood  of  battle  before  their  edges  broke ; 
And  the  shield-wall,  sorely  dwindled  and  reft  of  the  ruddy  gold. 
Against  the  drift  of  the  war-blast  for  the  fourth  time  yet  did  hold. 
B:a^  men's  shields  were  waxen  heavy  with  the  weight  of  shafts  they  bore 
And  the  fifth  time  many  a  champion  cast  earthward  Odin's  door 
And  gripped  the  sword  two-handed  j  and  in  sheaves  the  spears  came  on 
And  at  last  the  host  of  the  Goth-folk  within  the  shield-wall  won, 
And  wild  was  the  work  within  it,  and  oft  and  o'er  again 
Forth  brake  the  sons  of  Volsung,  and  drave  the  foe  in  vain  ; 
For  the  driven  throng  still  thickened,  till  it  might  not  give  aback. 
But  fast  abode  King  Volsung  amid  the  shifting  wrack 


i8  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSIJNG. 

In  the  place  where  once  was  the  forefront :  for  he  said  :  "  My  feet  are  old 

And  if  I  wend  on  further  there  is  nought  more  to  behold 

Than  this  that  I  see  about  me."  —  Whiles  drew  his  foes  away 

And  stared  across  the  corpses  that  before  his  sword-edge  lay 

But  nought  he  followed  after  :  then  needs  must  they  in  front 

Thrust  on  by  the  thickening  spear-throng  come  up  to  bear  the  brunt, 

Till  all  his  limbs  were  weary  and  his  body  rent  and  torn  : 

Then  he  cried  :  "  Lo  now,  Allfather,  is  not  the  swathe  well  shorn  ? 

Wouldst  thou  have  me  toil  for  ever,  nor  win  the  wages  due  ? " 

And  mid  the  hedge  of  foemen  his  blunted  sword  he  threw 
And,  laid  like  the  oars  of  a  longship  the  level  war-shafts  pressed 
On  'gainst  the  unshielded  elder,  and  clashed  amidst  his  breast, 
And  dead  he  fell,  thrust  backward,  and  rang  on  the  dead  men's  gear : 
But  still  for  a  certain  season  durst  no  man  draw  anear.  [sky 

For  'twas  e'en  as  a  great  God's  slaying,  and  they  feared  the  wrath  of  the 
And  they  deemed  their  hearts  might  harden  if  awhile  they  should  let  him 

[lie. 
Lo,  now  as  the  plotting  was  long,  so  short  is  the  tale  to  tell 
How  a  mighty  people's  leaders  in  the  field  of  murder  fell. 
For  but  feebly  burned  the  battle  when  Volsung  fell  to  field. 
And  all  who  yet  were  living  were  borne  down  before  the  shield : 
So  sinketh  the  din  and  the  tumult ;  and  the  earls  of  the  Goths  ring  round 
That  crown  of  the  Kings  of  battle  laid  low  upon  the  ground, 
Looking  up  to  the  noon-tide  heavens  from  the  place  where  first  he  stood : 
But  the  songful  sing  above  him  and  they  tell  how  his  end  is  as  good 
As  the  best  of  the  days  of  his  life-tide  ;  and  well  as  he  was  loved 
By  his  friends  ere  the  time  of  his  changing,  so  now  are  his  foemen  moved 
With  a  love  that  may  never  be  worsened,  since  all  the  strife  is  o'er, 
And  the  warders  look  for  his  coming  by  Odin's  open  door. 

But  his  sons,  the  stay  of  battle,  alive  with  many  a  wound. 

Borne  down  to  the  earth  by  the  shield-rush  amid  the  dead  lie  bound, 


BOOK  I.  SIGMUND.  19 

And  belike  a  wearier  journey  must  those  lords  of  battle  bide 
Ere  once  more  in  the  Hall  of  Odin  they  sit  by  their  father's  side,    [fight ! 
Woe's  me  for  the  boughs  of  the  Branstock  and  the  hawks  that  cried  on  the 
Woe's  me  for  the  fireless  hearthstones  and  the  hangings  of  delight, 
That  the  women  dare  not  look  on,  lest  they  see  them  sweat  with  blood ! 
Woe's  me  for  the  carven  pillars  where  the  spears  of  the  Volsungs  stood  1 
And  who  next  shall  shake  the  locks,  or  the  silver  door-rings  meet  ? 
Who  shall  pace  the  floor  beloved,  worn  down  by  the  Volsung  feet  ? 
Who  shall  fill  the  gold  with  the  wine,  or  cry  for  the  triumphing  ? 
Shall  it  be  kindred  or  foes,  or  thief,  or  thrall,  or  king  ? 


Of  the  ending  of  all  Volsung^ s  Sons  save  Sigmund  only^  and  of  how  he 
abideth  in  the  wild  wood. 

So  there  the  earls  of  the  Goth-folk  lay  Volsung  'neath  the  grass 

On  the  last  earth  he  had  trodden ;  but  his  children  bound  must  pass, 

When  the  host  is  gathered  together,  amidst  of  their  array 

To  the  high-built  dwelling  of  Siggeir ;  for  sooth  it  is  to  say. 

That  he  came  not  into  the  battle,  nor  faced  the  Volsung  sword. 

So  now  as  he  sat  in  his  high-seat  there  came  his  chiefest  lord, 

And  he  said :  "  I  bear  thee  tidings  of  the  death  of  the  best  of  the  brave. 

For  thy  foes  are  slain  or  bondsmen  ;  and  have  thou  Sigmund's  glaive. 

If  a  token  thou  desirest ;  and  that  shall  be  surely  enough. 

And  I  do  thee  to  wit.  King  Siggeir,  that  the  road  was  exceeding  rough, 

And  that  many  an  earl  there  stumbled,  who  shall  evermore  lie  down. 

And  indeed  I  deem  King  Volsung  for  all  earthly  kingship's  crown." 

Then  never  a  word  spake  Siggeir,  save  :  "  Where  be  Volsung's  sons  ?  '* 
And  he  said  :  "  Without  are  they  fettered,  those  battle-glorious  ones  : 
And  methinks  'twere  a  deed  for  a  king,  and  a  noble  deed  for  thee 
To  break  their  bonds  and  heal  them,  and  send  them  back  o'er  the  sea. 


20  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  abide  their  wrath  and  the  bloodfeud  for  this   matter  of  Volsung's 

[slaying." 
"Witless  thou  waxest,"  said  Siggeir,  "nor  heedest  the  wise  man's  saying; 
*  Slay  thou  the  wolf  by  the  house-door,  lest  he  slay  thee  in  the  wood.' 
Yet  since  I  am  the  overcomer,  and  my  days  henceforth  shall  be  good, 
I  will  quell  them  with  no  death-pains ;  let  the  young  men  smite  them  down, 
But  let  me  not  behold  them  when  my  heart  is  angrier  grown." 

E'en  as  he  uttered  the  word  was  Signy  at  the  door, 

And  with  hurrying  feet  she  gat  her  apace  to  the  high-seat  floor, 

As  wan  as  the  dawning-hour,  though  never  a  tear  she  had : 

And  she  cried :  "  I  pray  thee,  Siggeir,  now  thine  heart  is  merry  and  glad 

With  the  death  and  the  bonds  of  my  kinsmen,  to  grant  me  this  one  prayer, 

This  one  time  and  no  other ;  let  them  breathe  the  earthly  air 

For  a  day,  for  a  day  or  twain,  ere  they  wend  the  way  of  death. 

For,  *  sweet  to  eye  while  seen,'  the  elders'  saying  saith." 

[woe? 
Quoth  he :  "  Thou  art  mad  with  sorrow ;  wilt  thou  work  thy  friends  thi<? 
When  swift  and  untormented  e'en  I  would  let  them  go  : 
Yet  now  shalt  thou  have  thine  asking,  if  it  verily  is  thy  will : 
Nor  forsooth  do  I  begrudge  them  a  longer  tide  of  ill." 

She  said :  "  I  will  it,  I  will  it — *  O  sweet  to  eye  while  seen ! '  " 

Then  to  his  earl  spake  Siggeir :  "  There  lies  a  wood-lawn  green 
In  the  first  mile  of  the  forest ;  there  fetter  these  Volsung  men 
To  the  mightiest  beam  of  the  wild-wood,  till  Queen  Signy  come  again 
And  pray  me  a  boon  for  her  brethren,  the  end  of  their  latter  life." 

So  the  Goth-folk  led  to  the  woodland  those  gleanings  of  the  strife. 
And  smote  down  a  great-boied  oak-tree,  the  mightiest  they  might  find, 
And  thereto  with  bonds  of  iron  the  Volsungs  did  they  bind. 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  21 

And  left  them  there  on  the  wood-lawn,  mid  the  yew-trees'  compassing, 
And  went  back  by  the  light  of  the  moon  to  the  dwelling  of  the  king. 

But  he  sent  on  the  morn  of  the  morrow  to  see  how  his  foemen  fared. 
For  now  as  he  thought  thereover,  o'ermuch  he  deemed  it  dared 
That  he  saw  not  the  last  of  the  Volsungs  laid  dead  before  his  feet. 
Back  came  his  men  ere  the  noontide,  and  he  deemed  their  tidings  sweet ; 
For  they  said :  "  We  tell  thee,  King  Siggeir,  that  Geirmund  and  Gylfi  are, 

gone. 
And  we  deem  that  a  beast  of  the  wild-wood  this  murder  grim  hath  done, 
For  the  bones  yet  lie  in  the  fetters  gnawed  fleshless  now  and  white ; 
But  we  deemed  the  eight  abiding  sore  minished  of  their  might." 

So  wore  the  morn  and  the  noontide,  and  the  even  'gan  to  fall. 

And  watchful  eyes  held  Signy  at  home  in  bower  and  hall. 

And  again  came  the  men  in  the  morning,  and  spake :  "  The  hopples  hold 

The  bare  white  bones  of  Helgi,  and  the  bones  of  Solar  the  bold : 

And  the  six  that  abide  seem  feebler  than  they  were  a  while  ago." 

Still  all  the  day  and  the  night-tide  must  Signy  nurse  her  woe 

About  the  house  of  King  Siggeir,  nor  any  might  she  send :  [end, 

And  again  came  the  tale  on  the  morrow :  "  Now  are  two  more  come  to  an 

For  Hunthiof  dead  and  Gunthiof,  their  bones  lie  side  by  side. 

And  the  four  that  are  left,  us  seemeth,  no  long  while  will  abide." 

O  woe  for  the  well-watched  Signy,  how  often  on  that  day 
Must  she  send  her  helpless  eyen  adown.  the  woodland  way ! 
Yet  silent  in  her  bosom  she  held  her  heart  of  flame. 
And  again  on  the  morrow  morning  the  tale  was  still  the  same : 

"We  tell  thee  now.  King  Siggeir,  that  all  will  soon  be  done; 
For  the  two  last  men  of  the  Volsungs,  they  sit  there  one  by  one, 
And  Sigi's  head  is  drooping,  but  somewhat  Sigmund  sings ; 


22  THE  STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

For  the  man  was  a  mighty  warrior  and  a  beater  down  of  kings. 

But  for  Rerir  and  for  Agnar,  the  last  of  them  is  said, 

Their  bones  in  the  bonds  are  abiding,  but  their  souls  and  lives  are  sped. ' 

That  day  from  the  eyes  of  the  watchers  nought  Signy  strove  to  depart, 

But  ever  she  sat  in  the  high-seat  and  nursed  the  flame  in  her  heart. 

In  the  sight  of  all  people  she  sat,  with  unmpved  face  and  wan, 

And  to  no  man  gave  she  a  word,  nor  looked  on  any  man. 

Then  the  dusk  and  the  dark  drew  over,  but  stirred  she  never  a  whit. 

And  the  word  of  Siggeir's  sending,  she  gave  no  heed  to  it. 

And  there  on  the  morrow  morning  must  he  set  him  down  by  her  side, 

When  unto  the  council  of  elders  folk  came  from  far  and  wide. 

And  there  came  Siggeir's  woodmen,  and  their  voice  in  the  hall  arose : 

"  There  is  no  man  left  on  the  tree-beam :  some  beast  hath  devoured  thy  foes ; 
There  is  nought  left  there  but  the  bones,  and  the  bonds  that  the  Volsungs 

[bound." 
No  word  spake  the  earls  of  the  Goth-folk,  but  the  hall  rang  out  with  a  sound., 
With  the  wail  and  the  cry  of  Signy,  as  she  stood  upright  on  her  feet. 
And  thrust  all  people  from  her,  and  fled  to  her  bower  as  fleet 
As  the  hind  when  she  first  is  smitten  ;  and  her  maidens  fled  away, 
Fearing  her  face  and  her  eyen :  no  less  at  the  death  of  the  day 
She  rose  up  amid  the  silence,  and  went  her  ways  alone. 
And  no  man  watched  her  or  hindered,  for  they  deemed  the  story  done. 
So  she  went  'twixt  the  yellow  acres,  and  the  green  meeds  of  the  sheep, 
And  or  ever  she  reached  the  wild-wood  the  night  was  waxen  deep. 
No  man  she  had  to  lead  her,  but  the  path  was  trodden  well 
By  those  messengers  of  murder,  the  men  with  the  tale  to  tell ; 
And  the  beams  of  the  high  white  moon  gave  a  glimmering  day  through  night 
Till  she  came  where  that  lawn  of  the  woods  lay  wide  in  the  flood  of  light. 
Then  she  looked,  and  lo,  in  its  midmost  a  mighty  man  there  stood,     [wood  j 
And  laboured  the  earth  of  the  green-sward  with  a  truncheon  torn  from  the 
And  behold,  it  was  Sigmund  the  Volsung :  but  she  cried  and  had  no  fear 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  23 

"  If  thou  art  living,  Sigmund,  what  day's  work  dost  thou  here 

In  the  midnight  and  the  forest  ?  but  if  thou  art  nought  but  a  ghost, 

Then  where  are  those  Volsung  brethren,  of  whom  thou  wert  best  and  most  ? ' 

Then  he  turned  about  unto  her,  and  his  raiment  was  fouled  and  torn, 
And  his  eyen  were  great  and  hollow,  as  a  famished  man  forlorn ; 
But  he  cried :  "  Hail,  Sister  Signy !  I  looked  for  thee  before, 
Though  what  should  a  woman  compass,  she  one  alone  and  no  more, 
When  all  we  shielded  Volsungs  did  nought  in  Siggeir's  land  ? 
O  yea,  I  am  living  indeed,  and  this  labour  of  mine  hand 
Is  to  bury  the  bones  of  the  Volsungs ;  and  lo,  it  is  well-nigh  done. 
So  draw  near,  Volsung's  daughter,  and  pile  we  many  a  stone 
Where  lie  the  grey  wolf's  gleanings  of  what  was  once  so  good." 

So  she  set  her  hand  to  the  labour,  and  they  toiled,  they  twain  in  the  wood. 

And  when  the  work  was  over,  dead  night  was  beginning  to  fail : 

Then  spake  the  white-hand  Signy :  "  Now  shalt  thou  tell  the  tale 

Of  the  death  of  the  Volsung  brethren  ere  the  wood  thy  wrath  shall  hide, 

Ere  I  wend  me  back  sick-hearted  in  the  dwelling  of  kings  to  abide." 

He  said :  "  We  sat  on  the  tree,  and  well  ye  may  wot  indeed 

That  we  had  some  hope  from  thy  good-will  amidst  that  bitter  need. 

Now  none  had  'scaped  the  sword-edge  in  the  battle  utterly, 

And  so  hurt  were  Agnar  and  Helgi,  that,  unhelped,  they  were  like  to  die  3 

Though  for  that  we  deemed  them  happier :  but  now  when  the  moon  shone 

bright. 
And  when  by  a  doomed  man's  deeming  'twas  the  midmost  of  the  night, 
Lo,  forth  from  yonder  thicket  were  two  mighty  wood-wolves  come, 
Far  huger  wrought  to  my  deeming  than  the  beasts  I  knew  at  home  : 
Forthright  on  Gylfi  and  Geirmund  those  dogs  of  the  forest  fell, 
And  what  of  men  so  hoppled  should  be  the  tale  to  tell  ? 
They  tore  them  midst  the  irons,  and  slew  them  then  and  there, 
And  long  we  heard  them  snarling  o'er  that  abundant  cheer. 


24  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Night  after  night,  O  my  sister,  the  story  was  the  same, 

And  still  from  the  dark  and  the  thicket  the  wild-wood  were-wolves  came 

And  slew  two  men  of  the  Volsungs  whom  the  sword  edge  m.ight  not  end 

And  every  day  in  the  dawning  did  the  King's  own  woodmen  wend 

To  behold  those  craftsmen's  carving  and  rejoice  King  Siggeir's  heart. 

And  so  was  come  last  midnight,  when  I  must  play  my  part : 

Forsooth  when  those  first  were  murdered  my  heart  was  as  blood  and  fire ; 

And  I  deemed  that  my  bonds  must  burst  with  my  uttermost  desire 

To  free  my  naked  hands,  that  the  vengeance  might  be  wrought ; 

But  now  was  I  wroth  with  the  Gods,  that  had  made  the  Volsungs  for  nought  \ 

And  I  said :  in  the  Day  of  their  Doom  a  man's  help  shall  they  miss ; 

I  will  be  as  a  wolf  of  the  forest,  if  their  kings  must  come  to  this  ; 

Or  if  Siggeir  indeed  be  their  king,  and  their  en\y  has  brought  it  about 

That  dead  in  the  dust  lies  Volsung,  while  the  last  of  his  seed  dies  out 

Therewith  from  out  the  thicket  the  grey  wolves  drew  anigh, 

And  the  he-wolf  fell  on  Sigi,  but  he  gave  forth  never  a  cry, 

And  I  saw  his  lips  that  they  smiled,  and  his  steady  eyes  for  a  space ; 

And  therewith  was  the  she-wolf's  muzzle  thrust  into  my  very  face. 

The  Gods  helped  not,  but  I  helped ;  and  I  too  grew  wolfish  then : 

Yea  I,  who  have  borne  the  sword-hilt  high  mid  the  kings  of  men, 

I,  lord  of  the  golden  harness,  the  flame  of  the  Glittering  Heath, 

Must  snarl  to  the  she-wolf's  snarling,  and  snap  with  greedy  teeth 

While  my  hands  with  the  hand-bonds  struggled  :  my  teeth  took  hold  the  first 

And  amid  her  mighty  writhing  the  bonds  that  bound  me  burst. 

As  \^dth  Fenrir's  Wolf  it  shall  be  :  then  the  beast  with  the  hopples  I  smote^ 

When  my  left  hand  stiff  with  the  bonds  had  got  her  by  the  throat. 

But  I  turned  when  I  had  slain  her,  and  there  lay  Sigi  dead. 

And  once  more  to  the  night  of  the  forest  the  fretting  wolf  had  fled. 

In  the  thicket  I  hid  till  the  dawning,  and  thence  I  saw  the  men, 

E'en  Siggeir's  heart-rejoicers,  come  back  to  the  place  again 

To  gather  the  well-loved  tidings  :  I  looked  and  I  knew  for  sooth 

How  hate  had  grown  in  my  bosom  and  the  death  of  my  days  of  ruth : 

Though  unslain  they  departed  from  me,  lest  Siggeir  come  to  doubt. 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  2^ 

But  hereafter,  yea  hereafter,  they  that  turned  the  world  about, 
And  raised  Hell's  abode  o'er  God-home,  and  mocked  all  men-folk's  worth- 
Shall  my  hand  turn  back  or  falter,  while  these  abide  on  earth, 
Because  I  once  was  a  child,  and  sat  on  my  father's  knees  ? 
But  long  methinks  shall  Siggeir  bide  merrily  at  ease 
In  the  high-built  house  of  the  Goths,  with  his  shielded  earls  around, 
HiS'Warders  of  day  and  of  night-tide,  and  his  world  of  peopled  ground, 
While  his  foe  is  a  swordless  outcast,  a  hunted  beast  of  the  wood, 
A  wolf  of  the  holy  places,  where  men-folk  gather  for  good. 
And  didst  thou  think,  my  sister,  when  we  sat  in  our  summer  bliss 
Beneath  the  boughs  of  the  Branstock,  that  the  world  was  like  to  this  ? " 

As  the  moon  and  the  twilight  mingled,  she  stood  with  kindling  eyes, 
And  answered  and  said  :  "  My  brother,  thou  art  strong,  and  thou  shalt  be 

wise: 
I  am  nothing  so  wroth  as  thou  art  with  the  ways  of  death  and  hell. 
For  thereof  had  I  a  deeming  when  all  things  were  seeming  well. 
In  sooth  overlong  it  may  linger ;  the  children  of  murder  shall  thrive. 
While  thy  work  is  a  weight  for  thine  heart,  and  a  toil  for  thy  hand  to  drive ,' 
But  1  wot  that  the  King  of  the  Goth-folk  for  his  deeds  shall  surely  pay, 
And  that  I  shall  live  to  see  it :  but  thy  wrath  shall  pass  away. 
And  long  shalt  thou  live  on  the  earth  an  exceeding  glorious  king       [sing : 
And  thy  words  shall  be  told  in  the  market,  and  all  men  of  thy  deeds  shall 
Fresh  shall  thy  memory  be,  and  thine  eyes  like  mine  shall  gaze 
On  the  day  unborn  in  the  darkness,  the  last  of  all  earthly  days, 
The  last  of  the  days  of  battle,  when  the  host  of  the  Gods  is  arrayed 
And  there  is  an  end  for  ever  of  all  who  were  once  afraid. 
There  as  thou  drawest  thy  sword,  thou  shalt  think  of  the  days  that  were 
And  the  foul  shall  still  seem  foul,  and  the  fair  shall  still  seem  fair  j 
But  thy  wit  shall  then  be  awakened,  and  thou  shalt  know  indeed 
Why  the  brave  man's  spear  is  broken,  and  his  war-shield  fails  at  need ; 
Why  the  loving  is  unbelovM ;  why  the  just  man  falls  from  his  state  j 
Why  the  liar  gains  in  a  day  what  the  soothfast  strives  for  late. 


26  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Yea,  and  thy  deeds  shalt  thou  know,  and  great  shall  thy  gladness  be ; 

As  a  picture  all  of  gold  thy  life-days  shalt  thou  see. 

And  know  that  thou  too  wert  a  God  to  abide  through  the  hurry  and  haste  j 

A  God  in  the  golden  hall,  a  God  on  the  rain-swept  waste, 

A  God  in  the  battle  triumphant,  a  God  on  the  heap  of  the  slain : 

And  thine  hope  shall  arise  and  blossom,  and  thy  love  shall  be  quickened 

And  then  shalt  thou  see  before  thee  the  face  of  all  earthly  ill ;  [again : 

Thou  shalt  drink  of  the  cup  of  awakening  that  thine  hand  hath  holpen  to  fill; 

By  the  side  of  the  sons  of  Odin  shalt  thou  fashion  a  tale  to  be  told 

In  the  hall  of  the  happy  Baldur :  nor  there  shall  the  tale  grow  old 

Of  the  days  before  the  changing,  e'en  those  that  over  us  pass. 

So  harden  thine  heart,  O  brother,  and  set  thy  brow  as  the  brass !         [done 

Thou  shalt  do,  and  thy  deeds  shall  be  goodly,  and  the  day's  work  shall  he 

Though  nought  but  the  wild  deer  see  it.     Nor  yet  shalt  thou  be  alone 

For  ever-more  in  thy  waiting ;  for  belike  a  fearful  friend 

The  long  days  for  thee  may  fashion,  to  help  thee  ere  the  end. 

But  now  shalt  thou  bide  in  the  wild-wood,  and  make  thee  a  lair  therein : 

Thou  art  here  in  the  midst  of  thy  f oemen,  and  from  them  thou  well  mayst  win 

Whatso  thine  heart  desireth ;  yet  be  thou  not  too  bold. 

Lest  the  tale  of  the  wood-abider  too  oft  to  the  king  be  told. 

Ere  many  days  are  departed  again  shall  I  see  thy  face, 

That  I  may  wot  full  surely  of  thine  abiding-place 

To  send  thee  help  and  comfort ;  but  when  that  hour  is  o'er 

It  were  good,  O  last  of  the  Volsungs,  that  I  see  thy  face  no  more, 

If  so  indeed  it  may  be :  but  the  Norns  must  fashion  all. 

And  what  the  dawn  hath  fated  on  the  hour  of  noon  shall  fall." 

Then  she  kissed  him  and  departed,  for  the  day  was  nigh  at  hand. 
And  by  then  she  had  left  the  woodways  green  lay  the  horse-fed  land 
Beneath  the  new-born  daylight,  and  as  she  brushed  the  dew 
Betwixt  the  yellowing  acres,  all  heaven  o'erhead  was  blue 
And  at  last  on  that  dwelling  of  Kings  the  golden  sunlight  lay. 
And  the  morn  and  the  noon  and  the  even  built  up  another  day. 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  27 


Of  the  birth  and  fostering  of  Sinfiotli  Signfs  Son. 

So  wrought  is  the  will  of  King  Siggeir,  and  he  weareth  Odin's  sword, 
And  it  lies  on  his  knees  in  the  council  and  hath  no  other  lord : 
And  he  sendeth  earls  o'er  the  sea-flood  to  take  King  Volsung's  land, 
And  those  scattered  and  shepherdless  sheep  must  come  beneath  his  hand 
And  he  holdeth  the  milk-white  Signy  as  his  handmaid  and  his  wife. 
And  nought  but  his  will  she  doeth,  nor  raiseth  a  word  of  strife ; 
So  his  heart  is  praising  his  wisdom,  and  he  deems  him  of  most  avail 
Of  all  the  lords  of  the  cunning  that  teacheth  how  to  prevail. 

Now  again  in  a  half-month's  wearing  goes  Signy  into  the  wild. 

And  findeth  her  way  by  her  wisdom  to  the  dwelling  of  Volsung's  child. 

It  was  e'en  as  a  house  of  the  Dwarfs,  a  rock,  and  a  stony  cave. 

In  the  heart  of  the  midmost  thicket  by  the  hidden  river's  wave. 

There  Signy  found  him  watching  how  the  white-head  waters  ran,         [man 

And  she  said  in  her  heart  as  she  saw  him  that  once  more  she  had  seen  a 

His  words  were  few  and  heavy,  for  seldom  his  sorrow  slept. 

Yet  ever  his  love  went  with  them ;  and  men  say  that  Signy  wept' 

When  she  left  that  last  of  her  kindred :  yet  wept  she  never  more 

Amid  the  earls  of  Siggeir,  and  as  lovely  as  before 

Was  her  face  to  all  men's  deeming :  nor  ought  it  changed  for  ruth, 

Nor  for  fear  nor  any  longing ;  and  no  man  said  for  sooth 

That  she  ever  laughed  thereafter  till  the  day  of  her  death  was  come. 

So  is  Volsung's  seed  abiding  in  a  rough  and  narrow  home ; 

And  wargear  he  gat  him  enough  from  the  slaying  of  earls  of  men. 

And  gold  as  much  as  he  would ;  though  indeed  but  now  and  again 

He  fell  on  the  men  of  the  merchants,  lest,  wax  he  overbold. 

The  tale  of  the  wood-abider  too  oft  to  the  king  should  be  told. 

Alone  in  the  woods  he  abided,  and  a  master  of  masters  was  he 

In  the  craft  of  the  smithying  folk ;  and  whiles  would  the  hunter  see, 


28  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Belated  amid  the  thicket,  his  forge's  glimmering  light, 
And  the  boldest  of  all  the  fishers  would  hear  his  hammer  benight.       [rose 
Then  dim  waxed  the  tale  of  the  Volsungs,  and  the  word  mid  the  wood-folk 
That  a  King  of  the  Giants  had  wakened  from  amidst  the  stone-hedged  close 
Where  they  slept  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  and  had  come  adown  to 

dwell 
In  the  cave  whence  the  Dwarfs  were  departed,  and  they  said :  It  is  aught 
To  come  anigh  to  his  house-door,  or  wander  wide  in  his  woods,     [but  well 
For  a  tyrannous  lord  he  is,  and  a  lover  of  gold  and  of  goods. 

So  win  the  long  years  over,  and  still  sitteth  Signy  there 
Beside  the  King  of  the  Goth-folk,  and  is  waxen  no  less  fair. 
And  men  and  maids  hath  she  gotten  who  are  ready  to  work  her  will, 
For  the  worship  of  her  fairness,  and  remembrance  of  her  ill. 

So  it  fell  on  a  morn  of  springtide,  as  Sigmund  sat  on  the  sward 

By  that  ancient  house  of  the  Dwarf-kind  and  fashioned  a  golden  sword, 

By  the  side  of  the  hidden  river  he  saw  a  damsel  stand, 

And  a  manchild  of  ten  summers  was  holding  by  her  hand. 

And  she  cried : 

"  O  Forest-dweller !  harm  not  the  child  nor  me, 
For  I  bear  a  word  of  Signy's,  and  thus  she  saith  to  thee : 
*  I  send  thee  a  man  to  foster ;  if  his  heart  be  good  at  need 
Then  may  he  help  thy  workday ;  but  hearken  my  words  and  heed ; 
If  thou  deem  that  his  heart  shall  avail  not,  thy  work  is  over  great 
That  thou  weary  thy  heart  with  such-like :  let  him  wend  the  ways  of  his  fate;." 

And  no  more  word  spake  the  maiden,  but  turned  and  gat  her  gone, 
And  there  by  the  side  of  the  river  the  child  abode  alone : 
But  Sigmund  stood  on  his  feet,  and  across  the  river  he  went 
For  he  knew  how  the  child  was  Siggeir's,  and  of  Signy's  fell  intent. 
So  he  took  the  lad  on  his  shoulder,  and  bade  him  hold  his  sword 
And  waded  back  to  his  dwelling  across  the  rushing  ford : 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  29 

But  the  youngling  fell  a  prattling,  and  asked  of  this  and  that, 

As  above  the  rattle  of  waters  on  Sigmund's  shoulder  he  sat ; 

And  Sigmund  deemed  in  his  heart  that  the  boy  would  be  bold  enough. 

So  he  fostered  him  there  in  the  woodland  in  life  full  hard  and  rough 

For  the  space  of  three  months'  wearing ;  and  the  lad  was  deft  and  strong, 

Yet  his  sight  was  a  grief  to  Sigmund  because  of  his  father's  wrong. 

On  a  morn  to  the  son  of  King  Siggeir  Sigmund  the  Volsung  said : 
"  I  go  to  the  hunting  of  deer,  bide  thou  and  bake  our  bread 
Against  I  bring  the  venison." 

So  forth  he  fared  on  his  way. 
And  came  again  with  the  quarry  about  the  noon  of  day ; 
Quoth  he :  "  Is  the  morn's  work  done  ? "    But  the  boy  said  nought  for  a  space 
And  all  white  he  was  and  quaking  as  he  looked  on  Sigmund's  face. 

" Tell  me,  OSon  of  the  Goth-king,"  quoth  Sigmund,  "how  thou  hast  fared  ? 
Forsooth,  is  the  baking  of  bread  so  mighty  a  thing  to  be  dared  ? " 

Quoth  the  lad :  "  I  went  to  the  meal-sack,  and  therein  was  something  quick, 
And  it  moved,  and  I  feared  for  the  serpent,  like  a  winter  ashen  stick 
That  I  saw  on  the  stone  last  even :  so  I  durst  not  deal  with  the  thing." 

Loud  Sigmund  laughed,  and  answered :  "  I  have  heard  of  that  son  of  a  king. 
Who  might  not  be  scared  from  his  bread  for  all  the  worms  of  the  land." 
And  therewith  he  went  to  the  meal-sack  and  thrust  therein  his  hand. 
And  drew  forth  an  ash-grey  adder,  and  a  deadly  worm  it  was : 
Then  he  went  to  the  door  of  the  cave  and  set  it  down  in  the  grass, 
While  the  King's  son  quaked  and  quivered :  then  he  drew  forth  his  sword 

[from  the  sheath, 
And  said : 

"  Now  fearest  thou  this,  that  men  call  the  serpent  of  death  ?  " 

Then  said  the  son  of  King  Siggeir :  "  I  am  young  as  yet  for  the  war, 


30  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Yet  e'en  such  a  blade  shall  I  carry  ere  many  a  month  be  o'er." 

Then  abroad  went  the  King  in  the  wind,  and  leaned  on  his  naked  sword 
And  stood  there  many  an  hour,  and  mused  on  Signy's  word. 
But  at  last  when  the  moon  was  arisen,  and  the  undark  night  begun 
He  sheathed  the  sword  and  cried :  "  Come  forth,  King  Siggeir's  son, 
Thou  shalt  wend  from  out  of  the  wild- wood  and  no  more  will  I  foster  thee  * 

Forth  came  the  son  of  Siggeir,  and  quaked  his  face  to  see, 

But  thereof  nought  Sigmund  noted,  but  bade  him  wend  with  him. 

So  they  went  through  the  summer  night-tide  by  many  a  wood-way  dim, 

Till  they  came  to  a  certain  wood-lawn,  and  Sigmund  lingered  there. 

And  spake  as  his  feet  brushed  o'er  it:  "  The  June  flowers  blossom  fair." 

So  they  came  to  the  skirts  of  the  forest,  and  the  meadows  of  the  neat, 

And  the  earliest  wind  of  dawning  blew  over  them  soft  and  sweet : 

There  stayed  Sigmund  the  Volsung,  and  said  : 

"  King  Siggeir's  son, 
Bide  here  till  the  birds  are  singing,  and  the  day  is  well  begun ; 
Then  go  the  house  of  the  Goth-king,  and  find  thou  Signy  the  Queen, 
And  tell  unto  no  man  else  the  things  thou  hast  heard  and  seen : 
But  to  her  shalt  thou  tell  what  thou  wilt,  and  say  this  word  withal : 
'  Mother,  I  come  from  the  wild-wood,  and  he  saith,  whatever  befal 
Alone  will  I  abide  there,  nor  have  such  fosterlings ; 
For  the  sons  of  the  Gods  may  help  me,  but  never  the  sons  of  Kings.' 
Go,  then,  with  this  word  in  thy  mouth  —  or  do  thou  after  thy  fate. 
And,  if  thou  wilt,  betray  me  !  —  and  repent  it  early  and  late." 

Then  he  turned  his  back  on  the  acres,  and  away  to  the  woodland  strode ; 
But  the  boy  scarce  bided  the  sunrise  ere  he  went  the  homeward  road ; 
So  he  came  to  the  house  of  the  Goth-kings,  and  spake  with  Signy  the  Queen, 
Nor  told  he  to  any  other  the  things  he  had  heard  and  seen. 
For  the  heart  of  a  king's  son  had  he. 

But  Signy  hearkened  his  word ; 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND. 


31 


And  long  she  pondered  and  said :  What  is  it  my  heart  hath  feared  ? 

And  how  shall  it  be  with  earth's  people  if  the  kin  of  the  Volsungs  die, 

And  King  Volsung  unavenged  in  his  mound  by  the  sea-strand  lie  ? 

I  have  given  my  best  and  bravest,  as  my  heart's  blood  I  would  give,     [live. 

And  my  heart  and  my  fame  and  my  body,  that  the  name  of  Volsung  might 

Lo  the  first  gift  cast  aback  :  and  how  shall  it  be  with  the  last,  — 

—  If  I  find  out  the  gift  for  the  giving  before  the  hour  be  past  ? " 

Long  while  she  mused  and  pondered  while  day  was  thrust  on  day,      [grey, 
Till  the  king  and  the  earls  of  the  strangers  seemed  shades  of  the  dreamtide 
And  gone  seemed  all  earth's  people,  save  that  woman  mid  the  gold 
And  that  man  in  the  depths  of  the  forest  in  the  cave  of  the  Dwarfs  of  old. 
And  once  in  the  dark  she  murmured  :  "  Where  then  was  the  ancient  song 
That  the  Gods  were  but  twin-born  once,  and  deemed  it  nothing  wrong 
To  mingle  for  the  world's  sake,  whence  had  the  ^sir  birth. 
And  the  Vanir  and  the  Dwarf -kind,  and  all  the  folk  of  earth  ?  " 

[there. 
Now  amidst  those  days  that  she  pondered  came  a  wife  of  the  witch-folk 
A  woman  young  and  lovesome,  and  shaped  exceeding  fair. 
And  she  spake  with  Signy  the  Queen,  and  told  her  of  deeds  of  her  craft, 
And  how  the  might  was  with  her  her  soul  from  her  body  to  waft 
And  to  take  the  shape  of  another  and  give  her  fashion  in  turn. 
Fierce  then  in  the  heart  of  Signy  a  sudden  flame  'gan  burn,  [last  fire 

And  the  eyes  of  her  soul  saw  all  things,  like  the  blind,  whom  the  world's 
Hath  healed  in  one  passing  moment  'twixt  his  death  and  his  desire. 
And  she  thought :  "  Alone  I  will  bear  it ;  alone  I  will  take  the  crime ; 
On  me  alone  be  the  shaming,  and  the  cry  of  the  coming  time. 
Yea,  and  he  for  the  life  is  fated  and  the  help  of  many  a  folk, 
And  I  for  the  death  and  the  rest,  and  deliverance  from  the  yoke." 

Then  wan  as  the  midnight  moon  she  answered  the  woman  and  spake : 
"Thou  art  come  to  the  Goth-queen's  dwelling,  wilt  thou  do  so  much  for  my 
And  for  many  a  pound  of  silver  and  for  rings  of  the  ruddy  gold,         [sake, 


32  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

As  to  change  thy  body  for  mine  ere  the  night  is  waxen  old  ? " 

Nought  the  witch-wife  fair  gainsaid  it,  and  they  went  to  the  bower  aloft 

And  hand  in  hand  and  alone  they  sung  the  spell-song  soft : 

Till  Signy  looked  on  her  guest,  and,  lo,  the  face  of  a  queen 

With  the  steadfast  eyes  of  grey,  that  so  many  a  grief  had  seen  : 

But  the  guest  held  forth  a  mirror,  and  Signy  shrank  aback 

From  the  laughing  lips  and  the  eyes,  and  the  hair  of  crispy  black, 

But  though  she  shuddered  and  sickened,  the  false  face  changed  no  whit ; 

But  ruddy  and  white  it  blossomed  and  the  smiles  played  over  it ; 

And  the  hands  were  ready  to  cling,  and  beckoning  lamps  were  the  eyes. 

And  the  light  feet  longed  for  the  dance,  and  the  lips  for  laughter  and  lies 

So  that  eve  in  the  mid-hall's  high-seat  was  the  shape  of  Signy  the  Queen 
While  swiftly  the  feet  of  the  witch-wife  brushed  over  the  moon-lit  green, 
But  the  soul  mid  the  gleam  of  the  torches,  her  thought  was  of  gain  and  of 

gold; 
And  the  soul  of  the  wind-driven  woman,  swift-foot  in  the  moonlight  cold, 
Her  thoughts  were  of  men's  lives'  changing,  and  the  uttermost  ending  of 

earth. 
And  the  day  when  death  should  be  dead,  and  the  new  sun's  nightless  birth. 

Men  say  that  about  that  midnight  King  Sigmund  wakened  and  heard 
The  voice  of  a  soft-speeched  woman,  shrill-sweet  as  a  dawning  bird : 
So  he  rose  and  a  woman  indeed  he  saw  by  the  door  of  the  cave 
With  her  raiment  wet  to  her  midmost,  as  though  with  the  river-wave  : 
And  he  cried :  "  What  wilt  thou,  what  wilt  thou  ?  be  thou  womankind  or 
Here  is  no  good  abiding,  wend  forth  upon  thy  way  !  "  [fay, 

She  said  :  "  I  am  nought  but  a  woman,  a  maid  of  the  earl-folk's  kin  : 
And  I  went  by  the  skirts  of  the  woodland  to  the  house  of  my  sister  to  win, 
And  have  strayed  from  the  way  benighted :  and  I  fear  the  wolves  and  the 
By  the  glimmering  of  thy  torchlight  from  afar  was  I  beguiled.  [wild ! 


BOOK  I.     SiGMUND.  33 

Ah,  slay  me  not  on  thy  threshold,  nor  send  me  back  again 
Through  the  rattling  waves  of  thy  ford,  that  I  crossed  in  terror  and  pain ; 
Drive  me  not  to  the  night  and  the  darkness,  for  the  wolves  of  the  wood  to 
I  am  weak  and  thou  art  mighty  :  I  will  go  at  the  dawning  hour."     [devour 

So  Sigmund  looked  in  her  face  and  saw  that  she  was  fair ; 

And  he  said  :  "  Nay  nought  will  I  harm  thee,  and  thou  mayst  harbour  here, 

God  wot  if  thou  fear'st  not  me,  I  have  nought  to  fear  thy  face : 

Though  this  house  be  the  terror  of  men-folk,  thou  shalt  find  it  as  safe  a  place 

As  though  I  were  nought  but  thy  brother ;  and  then  mayst  thou  tell,  if  thou 

wilt. 
Where  dwelleth  the  dread  of  the  woodland,  the  bearer  of  many  a  guilt, 
Though  meseems  for  so  goodly  a  woman  it  were  all  too  ill  a  deed 
In  reward  for  the  wood-wight's  guesting  to  betray  him  in  his  need." 

So  he  took  the  hand  of  the  woman  and  straightway  led  her  in 

Where  days  agone  the  Dwarf-kind  would  their  deeds  of  smithying  win : 

And  he  kindled  the  half-slaked  embers,  and  gave  her  of  his  cheer 

Amid  the  gold  and  the  silver,  and  the  fight-won  raiment  dear ; 

And  soft  was  her  voice,  and  she  sung  him  sweet  tales  of  yore  agone, 

Till  all  his  heart  was  softened ;  and  the  man  was  all  alone. 

And  in  many  wise  she  wooed  him  ;  so  they  parted  not  that  night, 

Nor  slept  till  the  morrow  morning,  when  the  woods  were  waxen  bright : 

And  high  above  the  tree-boughs  shone  the  sister  of  the  moon, 

And  hushed  were  the  water-ouzels  with  the  coming  of  the  noon. 

When  she  stepped  from  the  bed  of  Sigmund,  and  left  the  Dwarf's  abode  ; 

And  turned  to  the  dwellings  of  men,  and  the  ways  where  the  earl-folk  rode. 

But  next  morn  from  the  house  of  the  Goth-king  the  witch-wife  went  her  ways 

With  gold  and  goods  and  silver,  such  store  as  a  queen  might  praise. 

But  no  long  while  with  Sigmund  dwelt  remembrance  of  that  night ; 

Amid  his  kingly  longings  and  his  many  deeds  of  might 

It  fled  like  the  dove  in  the  forest  or  the  down  upon  the  blast : 

Yet  heavy  and  sad  were  the  years,  that  even  in  suchwise  passed, 

3 


34  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

As  here  it  is  written  aforetime. 

Thence  were  ten  years  worn  by 
When  unto  that  hidden  river  a  man-child  drew  anigh, 
And  he  looked  and  beheld  how  Sigmund  wrought  on  a  helm  of  gold 
By  the  crag  and  the  stony  dwelling  where  the  Dwarf-kin  wrought  of  old. 
Then  the  boy  cried  :  "  Thou  art  the  wood-wight  of  whom  my  mother  spake ; 
Now  will  I  come  to  thy  dwelling." 

So  the  rough  stream  did  he  take 
And  the  welter  of  the  waters  rose  up  to  his  chin  and  more ; 
But  so  stark  and  strong  he  waded  that  he  won  the  further  shore  : 
And  he  came  and  gazed  on  Sigmund  :  but  the  Volsung  laughed,  and  said 
"  As  fast  thou  runnest  toward  me  as  others  in  their  dread 
Run  over  the  land  and  the  water :  what  wilt  thou,  son  of  a  king  ? " 

But  the  lad  still  gazed  on  Sigmund,  and  he  said  :  "  A  wondrous  thing  ! 
Here  is  the  cave  and  the  river,  and  all  tokens  of  the  place : 
But  my  mother  Signy  told  me  none  might  behold  that  face. 
And  keep  his  flesh  from  quaking :  but  at  thee  I  quake  not  aught : 
Sure  I  must  journey  further,  lest  her  errand  come  to  nought : 
Yet  I  would  that  my  foster-father  should  be  such  a  man  as  thou." 

But  Sigmund  answered  and  said  :  "  Thou  shalt  bide  in  my  dwelling  now ; 
And  thou  mayest  wot  full  surely  that  thy  mother's  will  is  done 
By  this  token  and  no  other,  that  thou  lookedst  on  Volsung's  son 
And  smiledst  fair  in  his  face ;  but  tell  me  thy  name  and  thy  years ; 
And  what  are  the  words  of  Signy  that  the  son  of  the  Goth-king  bears  ^  " 

"  Sinfiotli  they  call  me,"  he  said,  "  and  ten  summers  have  I  seen  ; 
And  this  is  the  only  word  that  I  bear  from  Signy  the  Queen, 
That  once  more  a  man  she  sendeth  the  work  of  thine  hands  to  speed, 
'f  he  be  of  the  Kings  or  the  Gods  thyself  shalt  know  in  thy  need." 

So  Sigmund  looked  on  the  youngling  and  his  heart  unto  him  yearned  ; 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  35 

But  he  thought ;  "  Shall  I  pay  the  hire  ere  the  worth  of  the  work  be  earned  ? 

And  what  hath  my  heart  to  do  to  cherish  Siggeir's  son ; 

A  brand  belike  for  the  burning  when  the  last  of  its  work  is  done  ?  " 

But  there  in  the  wild  and  the  thicket  those  twain  awhile  abode, 

And  on  the  lad  laid  Sigmund  full  many  a  weary  load 

And  thrust  him  mid  all  dangers,  and  he  bore  all  passing  well. 

Where  hardihood  might  help  him  ;  but  his  heart  was  fierce  and  fell ; 

And  ever  said  Sigmund  the  Volsung  :  The  lad  hath  plenteous  part 

In  the  guile  and  malice  of  Siggeir,  and  in  Signy's  hardy  heart : 

But  why  should  I  cherish  and  love  him,  since  the  end  must  come  at  last  ? 

Now  a  summer  and  winter  and  spring  o'er  those  men  of  the  wilds  had  pass'd, 
And  summer  was  there  again,  when  the  Volsung  spake  on  a  day : 
"  I  will  wend  to  the  wood-deer's  hunting,  but  thou  at  home  shalt  stay. 
And  deal  with  the  baking  of  bread  against  the  even  come." 

So  he  went  and  came  on  the  hunting  and  brought  the  venison  home, 
And  the  child,  as  ever  his  wont  was,  was  glad  of  his  coming  back. 
And  said  :  "  Thou  hast  gotten  us  venison,  and  the  bread  shall  nowise  lack." 
"  Yea,"  quoth  Sigmund  the  Volsung,   "  hast  thou  kneaded  the  meal  that 

[was  yonder  ?  " 
"  Yea,  and  what  other  ? "  he  said ;  "  though  therein  forsooth  was  a  wonder : 
For  when  I  would  handle  the  meal-sack  therein  was  something  quick. 
As  if  the  life  of  an  eel-grig  were  set  in  an  ashen  stick : 
But  the  meal  must  into  the  oven,  since  we  were  lacking  bread. 
And  all  that  is  kneaded  together,  and  the  wonder  is  baked  and  dead." 

Then  Sigmund  laughed  and  answered :  "  Thou  hast  kneaded  up  therem 

The  deadliest  of  all  adders  that  is  of  the  creeping  kin : 

So  tonight  from  the  bread  refrain  thee,  lest  thy  bane  should  come  of  it." 

For  here,  the  tale  of  the  elders  doth  men  a  marvel  to  wit, 


36  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

That  such  was  the  shaping  of  Sigmund  among  all  earthly  kings, 
That  unhurt  he  handled  adders  and  other  deadly  things, 
And  might  drink  unscathed  of  venom  :  but  Sinfiotli  so  was  wrought, 
That  no  sting  of  creeping  creatures  would  harm  his  body  aught. 

But  now  full  glad  was  Sigmund,  and  he  let  his  love  arise 

For  the  huge-limbed  son  of  Signy  with  the  fierce  and  eager  eyes ; 

And  all  deeds  of  the  sword  he  learned  him,  and  showed  him  feats  of  war 

Where  sea  and  forest  mingle,  and  up  from  the  ocean's  shore 

The  highway  leads  to  the  market,  and  men  go  up  and  down,  [town. 

And  the  spear-hedged  wains  of  the  merchants  fare  oft  to  the  Goth-folk's 

Sweet  then  Sinfiotli  deemed  it  to  look  on  the  bale-fires'  light. 

And  the  bickering  blood-reeds'  tangle,  and  the  fallow  blades  of  fight. 

And  in  three  years'  space  were  his  war-deeds  far  more  than  the  deeds  of  a 

But  dread  was  his  face  to  behold  ere  the  battle-play  began,  [man : 

And  grey  and  dreadful  his  face  when  the  last  of  the  battle  sank. 

And  so  the  years  won  over,  and  the  joy  of  the  woods  they  drank, 

And  they  gathered  gold  and  silver,  and  plenteous  outland  goods. 

But  they  came  to  a  house  on  a  day  in  the  uttermost  part  of  the  woods 
And  smote  on  the  door  and  entered,  when  a  long  while  no  man  bade ; 
And  lo,  a  gold  hung  hall,  and  two  men  on  the  benches  laid 
In  slumber  as  deep  as  the  death ;  and  gold-rings  great  and  fair 
Those  sleepers  bore  on  their  bodies,  and  broidered  southland  gear, 
And  over  the  head  of  each  there  hung  a  wolf-skin  grey. 

Then  the  drift  of  a  cloudy  dream  rapt  Sigmund's  soul  away, 

And  his  eyes  were  set  on  the  wolf-skin,  and  long  he  gazed  thereat. 

And  remembered  the  words  he  uttered  when  erst  on  the  beam  he  sat, 

That  the  Gods  should  miss  a  man  in  the  utmost  Day  of  Doom, 

And  win  a  wolf  in  his  stead  ;  and  unto  his  heart  came  home 

That  thought,  as  he  gazed  on  the  wolf-skin  and  the  other  days  waxed  dim, 

And  he  gathered  the  thing  in  his  hand,  and  did  it  over  him ; 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  37 

And  in  likewise  did  Sinfiotli  as  he  saw  his  fosterer  do. 

Then  lo,  a  fearful  wonder,  for  as  very  wolves  they  grew 

In  outward  shape  and  semblance,  and  they  howled  out  wolfish  things, 

Like  the  grey  dogs  of  the  forest ;  though  somewhat  the  hearts  of  kings 

Abode  in  their  bodies  of  beasts.     Now  sooth  is  the  tale  to  tell 

That  the  men  in  the  fair-wrought  raiment  were  kings'  sons  bound  by  a  spell 

To  wend  as  wolves  of  the  wild-wood,  for  each  nine  days  of  the  ten, 

And  to  lie  all  spent  for  a  season  when  they  gat  their  shapes  of  men. 

So  Sigmund  and  his  fellow  rush  forth  from  the  golden  place ; 
And  though  their  kings'  hearts  bade  them  the  backward  way  to  trace 
Unto  their  Dwarf-wrought  dwelling,  and  there  abide  the  change. 
Yet  their  wolfish  habit  drave  them  wide  through  the  wood  to  range, 
And  draw  nigh  to  the  dwellings  of  men  and  fly  upon  the  prey. 

And  lo  now,  a  band  of  hunters  on  the  uttermost  woodland  way, 
And  they  spy  those  dogs  of  the  forest,  and  fall  on  with  the  spear, 
Nor  deemed  that  any  other  but  woodland  beasts  they  were, 
And  that  easy  would  be  the  battle :  short  is  the  tale  to  tell ; 
For  every  man  of  the  hunters  amid  the  thicket  fell. 

Then  onwards  fare  those  were-wolves,  and  unto  the  sea  they  turn, 
And  their  ravening  hearts  are  heavy,  and  sore  for  the  prey  they  yearn : 
And  lo,  in  the  last  of  the  thicket  a  score  of  the  chaffering  men 
And  Sinfiotli  was  wild  for  the  onset,  but  Sigmund  was  wearying  then 
For  the  glimmering  gold  of  his  Dwarf-house,  and  he  bade  refrain  from 

the  folk. 
But  wrath  burned  in  the  eyes  of  Sinfiotli,  and  forth  from  the  thicket  he 

broke ; 
Then  rose  the  axes  aloft,  and  the  swords  flashed  bright  in  the  sun. 
And  but  little  more  it  needed  that  the  race  of  the  Volsungs  was  done. 
And  the  folk  of  the  Gods'  begetting :  but  at  last  they  quelled  the  war, 
And  no  man  again  of  the  sea-folk  should  ever  sit  by  the  oar. 


38  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Now  Sinfiotli  lay  weary  and  faint,  but  Sigmund  howled  over  the  dead, 
And  wrath  in  his  heart  there  gathered,  and  a  dim  thought  wearied  his  head, 
And  his  tangled  wolfish  wit,  that  might  never  understand ; 
As  though  some  God  in  his  dreaming  had  wasted  the  work  of  his  hand, 
And  forgotten  his  craft  of  creation ;  then  his  wrath  swelled  up  amain 
And  he  turned  and  fell  on  Sinfiotli,  who  had  wrought  the  wrack  and  the 
And  across  the  throat  he  tore  him  as  his  very  mortal  foe  [bane, 

Till  a  cold  dead  corpse  by  the  sea-strand  his  fosterling  lay  alow : 
Then  wearier  yet  grew  Sigmund,  and  the  dim  wit  seemed  to  pass 
From  his  heart  grown  cold  and  feeble :  when  lo,  amid  the  grass 
There  came  two  weazles  bickering,  and  one  bit  his  mate  by  the  head, 
Till  she  lay  there  dead  before  him :  then  he  sorrowed  over  her  dead ; 
But  no  long  while  he  abode  there,  but  into  the  thicket  he  went. 
And  the  wolfish  heart  of  Sigmund  knew  somewhat  his  intent : 
So  he  came  again  with  an  herb-leaf  and  laid  it  on  his  mate. 
And  she  rose  up  whole  and  living  and  no  worser  of  estate 
Than  ever  she  was  aforetime,  and  the  twain  went  merry  away. 

Then  swiftly  rose  up  Sigmund  from  where  his  fosterling  lay 

And  a  long  while  searched  the  thicket,  till  that  three-leaved  herb  he  found, 

And  he  laid  it  on  Sinfiotli,  who  rose  up  hale  and  sound 

As  ever  he  was  in  his  life-days.     But  now  in  hate  they  had 

That  hapless  work  of  the  witch-folk,  and  the  skins  that  their  bodies  clad. 

So  they  turn  their  faces  homeward  and  a  weary  way  they  go, 

Till  they  come  to  the  hidden  river,  and  the  glimmering  house  they  know. 

There  now  they  abide  in  peace,  and  wend  abroad  no  more 

Till  the  last  of  the  nine  days  perished,  and  the  spell  for  a  space  was  o'er. 

And  they  might  cast  their  wolf-shapes  :  so  they  stood  on  their  feet  upright 

Great  men  again  as  aforetime,  and  they  came  forth  into  the  light 

And  looked  in  each  other's  faces,  and  belike  a  change  was  there 

Since  they  did  on  the  bodies  of  wolves,  and  lay  in  the  wood-wolves'  lair, 

And  they  looked,  and  sore  they  wondered,  and  they  both  for  speech  did  yearn 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  39 

First  then  spake  out  Sinfiotli :  "  Sure  I  had  a  craft  to  learn, 

And  thou  hadst  a  lesson  to  teach,  that  I  left  the  dwelling  of  kings, 

And  came  to  the  wood-wolves'  dwelling;  thou  hast  taught  me  many  things 

But  the  Gods  have  taught  me  more,  and  at  last  have  abased  us  both, 

That  of  nought  that  lieth  before  us  our  hearts  and  our  hands  may  be  loth. 

Come  then,  how  long  shall  I  tarry  till  I  fashion  something  great  ? 

Come,  Master,  and  make  me  a  master  that  I  do  the  deeds  of  fate." 

Heavy  was  Sigmund's  visage  but  fierce  did  his  eyen  glow, 

*'This  is  the  deed  of  thy  mastery; — we  twain  shall  slay  my  foe  — 

And  how  if  the  foe  were  thy  father  ? " — 

Then  he  telleth  him  Siggeir's  tale  • 
And  saith  :  "  Now  think  upon  it;  how  shall  thine  heart  avail 
To  bear  the  curse  that  cometh  if  thy  life  endureth  long  — 
The  man  that  slew  his  father  and  amended  wrong  with  wrong  ? 
Yet  if  the  Gods,  have  made  thee  a  man  unlike  all  men, 
(For  thou  startest  not,  nor  palest)  can  I  forbear  it  then. 
To  use  the  thing  they  have  fashioned  lest  the  Volsung  seed  should  die 
And  unavenged  King  Volsung  in  his  mound  by  the  sea-strand  lie  ? " 

Then  loud  laughed  out  Sinfiotli,  and  he  said :  "  I  wot  indeed 

That  Signy  is  my  mother,  and  her  will  I  help  at  need  : 

Is  the  fox  of  the  King-folk  my  father,  that  adder  of  the  brake. 

Who  gave  me  never  a  blessing,  and  many  a  cursing  spake? 

Yea,  have  I  in  sooth  a  father,  save  him  that  cherished  my  life. 

The  Lord  of  the  Helm  of  Terror,  the  King  of  the  Flame  of  Strife  ? 

Lo  now  my  hand  is  ready  to  strike  what  stroke  thou  wilt, 

For  I  am  the  sword  of  the  Gods :  and  thine  hand  shall  hold  the  hilt." 

Fierce  glowed  the  eyes  of  King  Sigmund,  for  he  knew  the  time  was  come 
When  the  curse  King  Siggeir  fashioned  at  last  shall  seek  him  home : 
And  of  what  shall  follow  after,  be  it  evil  days,  or  bliss. 
Or  praise,  or  the  cursing  of  all  men, — the  Gods  shall  see  to  this. 


40  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 


Of  the  slaying  of  Siggeir  the  Goth-king. 

So  there  are  those  kings  abiding,  and  they  think  of  nought  but  the  day 

When  the  time  at  last  shall  serve  them,  to  wend  on  the  perilous  way. 

And  so  in  the  first  of  winter  when  nights  grow  long  and  mirk, 

They  fare  unto  Siggeir's  dwelling  and  seek  wherein  to  lurk. 

And  by  hap  'twas  the  tide  of  twilight,  ere  the  watch  of  the  night  was  set 

And  the  watch  of  the  day  was  departed,  as  Sinfiotli  minded  yet. 

So  now  by  a  passage  he  wotted  they  gat  them  into  the  bower 

Where  lay  the  biggest  wine-tuns,  and  there  they  abode  the  hour : 

Anigh  to  the  hall  it  was,  but  no  man  came  thereto. 

But  now  and  again  the  cup-lord  when  King  Siggeir's  wine  he  drew : 

Yea  and  so  nigh  to  the  feast-hall,  that  they  saw  the  torches  shine 

When  the  cup-lord  was  departed  with  King  Siggeir's  dear-bought  wine, 

And  they  heard  the  glee  of  the  people,  and  the  horns  and  the  beakers'  din 

When  the  feast  was  dight  in  the  hall  and  the  earls  were  merry  therein. 

Calm  was  the  face  of  Sigmund,  and  clear  were  his  eyes  and  bright ; 

But  Sinfiotli  gnawed  on  his  shield-rim,  and  his  face  was  haggard  and  white 

For  he  deemed  the  time  full  long,  ere  the  fallow  blades  should  leap 

In  the  hush  of  the  midnight  feast-hall  o'er  King  Siggeir's  golden  sleep. 

Now  it  fell  that  two  little  children.  Queen  Signy's  youngest-born. 

Were  about  the  hall  that  even,  and  amid  the  glee  of  the  horn 

They  played  with  a  golden  toy,  and  trundled  it  here  and  there, 

And  thus  to  that  lurking-bower  they  drew  exceeding  near. 

When  there  fell  a  ring  from  their  toy,  and  swiftly  rolled  away 

And  into  the  place  of  the  wine-tuns,  and  by  Sigmund's  feet  made  stay ; 

Then  the  little  ones  followed  after,  and  came  to  the  lurking-place 

Where  lay  those  night-abiders,  and  met  them  face  to  face. 

And  fled,  ere  they  might  hold  them,  aback  to  the  thronging  hall. 

Then  leapt  those  twain  to  their  feet  lest  the  sword  and  the  murder  fall 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  41 

On  their  hearts  in  their  narrow  lair  and  they  die  without  a  stroke ; 

But  e'en  as  they  met  the  torch-light  and  the  din  and  tumult  of  folk 

Lo  there  on  the  very  threshold  did  Signy  the  Volsung  stand, 

And  one  of  her  last-born  children  she  had  on  either  hand  :  [wine, 

For  the  children  had  cried  :  "  We  have  seen  them  —  those  two  among  the 

And  their  hats  are  wide  and  white,  and  their  garments  tinkle  and  shine,*' 

So  while  men  ran  to  their  weapons,  those  children  Signy  took, 

And  went  to  meet  her  kinsmen :  then  once  more  did  Sigmund  look 

On  the  face  of  his  father's  daughter,  and  kind  of  heart  he  grew. 

As  the  clash  of  the  coming  battle  anigh  the  doomed  men  drew : 

But  wan  and  fell  was  Signy ;  and  she  cried  : 

"The  end  is  near! 
- — And  thou  with  the  smile  on  thy  face  and  the  joyful  eyes  and  clear ! 
But  with  these  thy  two  betrayers  first  stain  the  edge  of  fight. 
For  why  should  the  fruit  of  my  body  outlive  my  soul  tonight  ? " 

But  he  cried  in  the  front  of  the  spear-hedge :  "  Nay  this  shall  be  far  from 
To  slay  thy  children  sackless,  though  my  death  belike  they  be.  [me 

Now  men  will  be  dealing,  sister,  and  old  the  night  is  grown. 
And  fair  in  the  house  of  my  fathers  the  benches  are  bestrown.'' 

So  she  stood  aside  and  gazed .  but  Sinfiotli  taketh  them  up 

And  breaketh  each  tender  body  as  a  drunkard  breaketh  a  cup ; 

With  a  dreadful  voice  he  crieth,  and  casteth  them  down  the  hall. 

And  the  Goth-folk  sunder  before  them,  and  at  Siggeir's  feet  they  fall. 

But  the  fallow  blades  leapt  naked,  and  on  the  battle  came. 

As  the  tide  of  the  winter  ocean  sweeps  up  to  the  beaconing  flame. 

But  firm  in  the  midst  of  onset  Sigmund  the  Volsung  stood. 

And  stirred  no  more  for  the  sword-strokes  than  the  oldest  oak  of  the  wood 

Shall  shake  to  the  herd-boys'  whittles  :  white  danced  his  war-flame's  gleam, 

And  oft  to  men's  beholding  his  eyes  of  God  would  beam 

Clear  from  the  sword-blades'  tangle,  and  often  for  a  space 

Amazed  the  garth  of  murder  stared  deedless  on  his  face ; 


42  THE   STORY    OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Nor  back  nor  forward  moved  he  :  but  fierce  Sinfiotli  went 

Where  the  spears  were  set  the  thickest,  and  sword  with  sword  was  blent ; 

And  great  was  the  death  before  him,  till  he  slipped  in  the  blood  and  fell : 

Then  the  shield-garth  compassed  Sigmund,  and  short  is  the  tale  to  tell : 

For  they  bore  him  down  unwounded,  and  bonds  about  him  cast : 

Nor  sore  hurt  is  Sinfiotli,  but  is  hoppled  straight  and  fast. 

Then  the  Goth-folk  went  to  slumber  when  the  hall  was  washed  from  blood  • 

But  a  long  while  wakened  Siggeir,  for  fell  and  fierce  was  his  mood, 

And  all  the  days  of  his  kingship  seemed  nothing  worth  as  then 

While  fared  the  son  of  Volsung  as  well  as  the  worst  of  men, 

While  yet  that  son  of  Signy  lay  untormented  there  : 

Yea  the  past  days  of  his  kingship  seemed  blossomless  and  bare 

Since  all  their  might  had  failed  him  to  quench  the  Volsung  kin. 

So  when  the  first  grey  dawning  a  new  day  did  begin, 

King  Siggeir  bade  his  bondsmen  to  dight  an  earthen  mound 

Anigh  to  the  house  of  the  Goth-kings  amid  the  fruit-grown  ground : 

And  that  house  of  death  was  twofold,  for  'twas  sundered  by  a  stone 

Into  two  woeful  chambers :  alone  and  not  alone 

Those  vanquished  thralls  of  battle  therein  should  bide  their  hour. 

That  each  might  hear  the  tidings  of  the  other's  baleful  bower. 

Yet  have  no  might  to  help  him.     So  now  the  twain  they  brought 

And  weary-dull  was  Sinfiotli,  with  eyes  that  looked  at  nought. 

But  Sigmund  fresh  and  clear-eyed  went  to  the  deadly  hall, 

And  the  song  arose  within  him  as  he  sat  within  its  wall ; 

Nor  aught  durst  Siggeir  mock  him,  as  he  had  good  will  to  do. 

But  went  his  ways  when  the  bondmen  brought  the  roofing  turfs  thereto. 

And  that  was  at  eve  of  the  day ;  and  lo  now,  Signy  the  white 
Wan-faced  and  eager-eyed  stole  through  the  beginning  of  night 
To  the  place  where  the  builders  built,  and  the  thralls  with  lingering  hands 
Had  roofed  in  the  grave  of  Sigmund  and  hidden  the  glory  of  lands, 


BOOK  I.  SIGMUND.  43 

Put  over  the  head  of  Sinfiotli  for  a  space  were  the  rafters  bare. 

Gold  then  to  the  thralls  she  gave,  and  promised  them  days  full  fair 

If  they  held  their  peace  for  ever  of  the  deed  that  then  she  did  : 

And  nothing  they  gainsayed  it ;  so  she  drew  forth  something  hid, 

In  wrappings  of  wheat-straw  winded,  and  into  Sinfiotli's  place 

She  cast  it  all  down  swiftly ;  then  she  covereth  up  her  face, 

And  beneath  the  winter  starlight  she  wendeth  swift  away. 

But  her  gift  do  the  thralls  deem  victual,  and  the  thatch  on  the  hall  they  lay, 

And  depart,  they  too,  to  their  slumber,  now  dight  was  the  dwelling  of  death. 

Then  Sigmund  hears  Sinfiotli,  how  he  cries  through  the  stone  and  saitb ; 

**  Best  unto  babe  is  mother,  well  sayeth  the  elder's  saw ; 

Here  hath  Signy  sent  me  swine's-flesh  in  windings  of  wheaten  straw." 

And  again  he  held  him  silent  of  bitter  words  or  of  sweet ; 

And  quoth  Sigmund,  "  What  hath  betided  ?  is  an  adder  in  the  meat  ?  " 

Then  loud  his  fosterling  laughed :  "  Yea,  a  worm  of  bitter  tooth, 

The  serpent  of  the  Branstock,  the  sword  of  thy  days  of  youth  ! 

I  have  felt  the  hilts  aforetime ;  I  have  felt  how  the  letters  run 

On  each  side  of  the  trench  of  blood  and  the  point  of  that  glorious  one. 

0  mother,  O  mother  of  kings !  we  shall  live  and  our  days  shall  be  sweet. 

1  have  loved  thee  well  aforetime,  I  shall  love  thee  more  when  we  meet." 

Then  Sigmund  heard  the  sword -point  smite  on  the  stone  wall's  side 

And  slowly  mid  the  darkness  therethrough  he  heard  it  gride 

As  against  it  bore  Sinfiotli :  but  he  cried  out  at  last : 

"  It  biteth,  O  my  fosterer !  it  cleaves  the  earth-bone  fast ! 

Now  learn  we  the  craft  of  the  masons  that  another  day  may  come 

When  we  build  a  house  for  King  Siggeir,  a  strait  unlovely  home." 

Then  in  the  grave-mound's  darkness  did  Sigmund  the  king  upstand, 
And  unto  that  saw  of  battle  he  set  his  naked  hand ; 


44  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  hard  the  gift  of  Odin  home  to  their  breasts  they  drew ; 

Sawed  Sigmund,  sawed  Sinfiotli,  till  the  stone  was  cleft  atwo, 

And  they  met  and  kissed  together :  then  they  hewed  and  heaved  full  hard 

Till  lo,  through  the  bursten  rafters  the  winter  heavens  bestarred ! 

And  they  leap  out  merry-hearted ;  nor  is  there  need  to  say 

A  many  words  between  them  of  whither  was  the  way. 

For  they  took  the  night-watch  sleeping,  and  slew  them  one  and  all, 

And  then  on  the  winter  fagots  they  make  them  haste  to  fall, 

They  pile  the  oak-trees  cloven,  and  when  the  oak-beams  fail 

They  bear  the  ash  and  the  rowan,  and  build  a  mighty  bale 

About  the  dwelling  of  Siggeir,  and  lay  the  torch  therein. 

Then  they  drew  their  swords  and  watched  it  till  the  flames  began  to  win 

Hard  on  to  the  mid-hall's  rafters,  and  those  feasters  of  the  folk, 

As  the  fire-flakes  fell  among  them,  to  their  last  of  days  awoke. 

By  the  gable-door  stood  Sigmund,  and  fierce  Sinfiotli  stood 

Red-lit  by  the  door  of  the  women  in  the  lane  of  blazing  wood : 

To  death  each  doorway  opened,  and  death  was  in  the  hall. 

Then  amid  the  gathered  Goth-folk  'gan  Siggeir  the  king  to  call : 

"  Who  lit  the  fire  I  burn  in,  and  what  shall  buy  me  peace  ? 

Will  ye  take  my  heaped-up  treasure,  or  ten  years  of  my  fields'  increase. 

Or  half  of  my  father's  kingdom  ?     O  toilers  at  the  oar, 

O  wasters  of  the  sea-plain,  now  labour  ye  no  more ! 

But  take  the  gifts  I  bid  you,  and  lie  upon  the  gold. 

And  clothe  your  limbs  in  purple  and  the  silken  women  hold ! " 

But  a  great  voice  cried  o'er  the  fire :  "  Nay  no  such  men  are  we, 

No  tuggers  at  the  hawser,  no  wasters  of  the  sea  : 

We  will  have  the  gold  and  the  purple  when  we  list  such  things  to  win ; 

But  now  we  think  on  our  fathers,  and  avenging  of  our  kin. 

Not  all  King  Siggeir's  kingdom,  and  not  all  the  world's  increase 

For  ever  and  for  ever,  shall  buy  thee  life  and  peace. 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  4S 

For  now  is  the  tree-bough  blossomed  that  sprang  from  murder's  seed ; 
And  the  death-doomed  and  the  buried  are  they  that  do  the  deed ; 
Now  when  the  dead  shall  ask  thee  by  whom  thy  days  were  done, 
Thou  shalt  say  by  Sigmund  the  Volsung,  and  Sinfiotli,  Signy's  son." 

Then  stark  fear  fell  on  the  earl-folk,  and  silent  they  abide 

Amid  the  flaming  penfold ;  and  again  the  great  voice  cried, 

As  the  Goth-king's  golden  pillars  grew  red  amidst  the  blaze : 

"  Ye  women  of  the  Goth-folk,  come  forth  upon  your  ways  ; 

And  thou,  Signy,  O  my  sister,  come  forth  from  death  and  hell,    , 

That  beneath  the  boughs  of  the  Branstock  once  more  we  twain  may  dwell." 

Forth  came  the  white-faced  women  and  passed  Sinfiotli's  sword, 

Free  by  the  glaive  of  Odin  the  trembling  pale  ones  poured, 

But  amid  their  hurrying  terror  came  never  Signy's  feet ; 

And  the  pearls  of  the  throne  of  Siggeir  shrunk  in  the  fervent  heat. 

Then  the  men  of  war  surged  outward  to  the  twofold  doors  of  bane, 

But  there  played  the  sword  of  Sigmund  amidst  the  fiery  lane 

Before  the  gable  door-way,  and  by  the  woman's  door 

Sinfiotli  sang  to  the  sword-edge  amid  the  bale-fire's  roar, 

And  back  again  to  the  burning  the  earls  of  the  Goth-folk  shrank : 

And  the  light  low  licked  the  tables,  and  the  wine  of  Siggier  drank. 

Lo  now  to  the  woman's  doorway,  the  steel-watched  bower  of  flame, 

Clad  in  her  queenly  raiment  King  Volsung's  daughter  came 

Before  Sinfiotli's  sword  point ;  and  she  said :  "  O  mightiest  son, 

Best  now  is  our  departing  in  the  day  my  grief  hath  won. 

And  the  many  days  of  toiling,  and  the  travail  of  my  womb. 

And  the  hate,  and  the  fire  of  longing :  thou,  son,  and  this  day  of  the  doom 

Have  long  been  as  one  to  my  heart ;  and  now  shall  I  leave  you  both. 

And  well  ye  may  wot  of  the  slumber  my  heart  is  nothing  loth ; 

And  all  the  more,  as,  meseemeth,  thy  day  shall  not  be  long 


46  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

To  weary  thee  with  labour  and  mingle  wrong  with  wrong. 
Yea,  and  I  wot  that  the  daylight  thine  eyes  had  never  seen 
Save  for  a  great  king's  murder  and  the  shame  of  a  mighty  queen. 
But  let  thy  soul,  I  charge  thee,  o'er  all  these  things  prevail 
To  make  thy  short  day  glorious  and  leave  a  goodly  tale." 

She  kissed  him  and  departed,  and  unto  Sigmund  went 

As  now  against  the  dawning  grey  grew  the  winter  bent : 

As  the  night  and  the  morning  mingled  he  saw  her  face  once  more, 

And  he  deemed  it  fair  and  ruddy  as  in  the  days  of  yore  ; 

Yet  fast  the  tears  fell  from  her,  and  the  sobs  upheaved  her  breast : 

And  she  said  :  "  My  youth  was  happy ;  but  this  hour  belike  is  best 

Of  all  the  days  of  my  life-tide,  that  soon  shall  have  an  end. 

I  have  come  to  greet  thee,  Sigmund,  then  back  again  must  I  wend, 

For  his  bed  the  Goth-king  dighteth  :  I  have  lain  therein,  time  was, 

And  loathed  the  sleep  I  won  there :  but  lo,  how  all  things  pass. 

And  hearts  are  changed  and  softened,  for  lovely  now  it  seems. 

Yet  fear  not  my  forgetting :  I  shall  see  thee  in  my  dreams 

A  mighty  king  of  the  world  'neath  the  bows  of  the  Branstock  green. 

With  thine  earls  and  thy  lords  about  thee  as  the  Volsung  fashion  hath  beer 

And  there  shall  all  ye  remember  how  I  loved  the  Volsung  name, 

Nor  spared  to  spend  for  its  blooming  my  joy,  and  my  life,  and  my  fame. 

For  hear  thou :  that  Sinfiotli,  who  hath  wrought  out  our  desire, 

Who  hath  compassed  about  King  Siggeir  with  this  sea  of  a  deadly  fire, 

Who  brake  thy  grave  asunder — my  child  and  thine  he  is. 

Begot  in  that  house  of  the  Dwarf -kind  for  no  other  end  than  this ; 

The  son  of  Volsung's  daughter,  the  son  of  Volsung's  son. 

Look,  look !  might  another  helper  this  deed  with  thee  have  done  ? " 

And  indeed  as  the  word  she  uttereth,  high  up  the  red  flames  flare 
To  the  nether  floor  of  the  heavens :  and  yet  men  see  them  there, 
The  golden  roofs  of  Siggeir,  the  hall  of  the  silver  door 
That  the  Goths  and  the  Gods  had  builded  to  last  for  evermore. 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  47 

She  said :  "  Farewell,  my  brother,  for  the  earls  my  candles  light 
And  I  must  wend  me  bedward  lest  I  lose  the  flower  of  night." 

And  soft  and  sweet  she  kissed  him,  ere  she  turned  about  again, 

And  a  little  while  was  Signy  beheld  of  the  eyes  of  men  ; 

And  as  she  crossed  the  threshold,  day  brightened  at  her  back 

Nor  once  did  she  turn  her  earthward  from  the  reek  and  the  whirling  wrack, 

But  fair  in  the  fashion  of  Queens  passed  on  to  the  heart  of  the  hall. 

And  then  King  Siggeir's  roof-tree  upheaved  for  its  utmost  fall,  , 

And  its  huge  walls  clashed  together,  and  its  mean  and  lowly  things 

The  fire  of  death  confounded  with  the  tokens  of  the  kings. 

A  sign  for  many  people  on  the  land  of  the  Goths  it  lay, 

A  lamp  of  the  earth  none  needed,  for  the  bright  sun  brought  the  day. 


How  Sigmund  cometh  to  the  Land  of  the  Volsungs  again^  and  of  the 
death  of  Sinfiotli  his  Son. 

Now  Sigmund  the  king  bestirs  him,  and  Sinfiotli,  Sigmund's  son, 

And  they  gather  a  host  together,  and  many  a  mighty  one  ; 

Then  they  set  the  ships  in  the  sea-flood  and  sail  from  the  stranger's  shore 

And  the  beaks  of  the  golden  dragons  see  the  Volsungs'  land  once  more : 

And  men's  hearts  are  fulfilled  of  joyance  j  and  they  cry.  The  sun  shines  now 

With  never  a  curse  to  hide  it,  and  they  shall  reap  that  sow  ! 

Then  for  many  a  day  sits  Sigmund  'neath  the  boughs  of  the  Branstock 

green. 
With  his  earls  and  lords  about  him  as  the  Volsung  wont  hath  been. 
And  oft  he  thinketh  on  Signy  and  oft  he  nameth  her  name, 
And  tells  how  she  spent  her  joyance  and  her  lifedays  and  her  fame 
That  the  Volsung  kin  might  blossom  and  bear  the  fruit  of  worth 
For  the  hope  of  unborn  people  and  the  harvest  of  the  earth. 
And  again  he  thinks  of  the  word  that  he  spake  that  other  day 


48  THE   SrOxCY   01    SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

How  he  should  abide  there  lonely  when  his  kin  was  passed  away, 
Their  glory  and  sole  avenger,  their  after-summer  seed. 

And  now  for  their  fame's  advancement,  and  the  latter  days  to  speed 

He  weddeth  a  wife  of  the  King-folk ;  Borghild  she  had  to  name ; 

And  the  woman  was  fair  and  lovely  and  bore  him  sons  of  fame ; 

Men  call  them  Hamond  and  Helgi,  and  when  Helgi  first  saw  light, 

There  came  the  Norns  to  his  cradle  and  gave  him  life  full  bright, 

And  called  him  Sunlit  Hill,  Sharp  Sword,  and  Land  of  Rings, 

And  bade  him  be  lovely  and  great,  and  a  joy  in  the  tale  of  kings. 

And  he  waxed  up  fair  and  mighty,  and  no  worser  than  their  word. 

And  sweet  are  the  tales  of  his  life-days,  and  the  wonders  of  his  sword, 

And  the  Maid  of  the  Shield  that  he  wedded,  and  how  he  changed  his  life, 

And  of  marvels  wrought  in  the  gravemound  where  he  rested  from  the  strife. 

But  the  tale  of  Sinfiotli  telleth,  that  wide  in  the  world  he  went. 
And  many  a  wall  of  ravens  the  edge  of  his  warflame  rent ; 
And  oft  he  drave  the  war-prey  and  wasted  many  a  land  : 
Amidst  King  Hunding's  battle  he  strengthened  Helgi's  hand  ; 
And  he  went  before  the  banners  amidst  the  steel-grown  wood. 
When  the  sons  of  Hunding  gathered  and  Helgi's  hope  withstood : 
Nor  less  he  mowed  the  war-swathe  in  Helgi's  glorious  day 
When  the  kings  of  the  hosts  at  the  Wolf-crag  set  the  battle  in  array. 
Then  at  home  by  his  father's  high-seat  he  wore  the  winter  through ; 
And  the  marvel  of  all  men  he  was  for  the  deeds  whereof  they  knew, 
And  the  deeds  whereof  none  wotted,  and  the  deeds  to  follow  after. 

And  yet  but  a  little  while  he  loved  the  song  and  the  laughter, 

And  the  wine  that  was  drunk  in  peace,  and  the  swordless  lying  down. 

And  the  deedless  day's  uprising  and  the  ungirt  golden  gown. 

And  he  thought  of  the  word  of  his  mother,  that  his  day  should  not  be  long 

To  weary  his  soul  with  labour  or  mingle  wrong  with  wrong  ; 

And  his  heart  was  exceeding  hungry  o'er  all  men  to  prevail, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  49 

And  make  his  short  day  glorious  and  leave  a  goodly  tale. 

So  when  green  leaves  were  lengthening  and  the  spring  was  come  again 
He  set  his  ships  in  the  sea-flood  and  sailed  across  the  main ; 
And  the  brother  of  Queen  Borghild  was  his  fellow  in  the  war, 
A  king  of  hosts  hight  Gudrod ;  and  each  to  each  they  swore, 
And  plighted  troth  for  the  helping,  and  the  parting  of  the  prey. 

Now  a  long  way  over  the  sea-flood  they  went  ashore  on  a  day 

And  fought  with  a  mighty  folk-king,  and  overcame  at  last : 

Then  wide  about  his  kingdom  the  net  of  steel  they  cast 

And  the  prey  was  great  and  goodly  that  they  drave  unto  the  strand. 

But  a  greedy  heart  is  Gudrod,  and  a  king  of  griping  hand. 

Though  nought  he  blench  from  the  battle;  so  he  speaks  on  a  morning  fair 

And  saith : 

"  Upon  the  foreshore  the  booty  will  we  share 
If  thou  wilt  help  me,  fellow,  before  we  sail  our  ways." 

Sinfiotli  laughed,  and  answered :  "  O'ershort  methinks  the  days 
That  two  kings  of  war  should  chaffer  like  merchants  of  the  men : 
I  will  come  again  in  the  even  and  look  on  thy  dealings  then, 
And  take  the  share  thou  givest." 

Then  he  went  his  ways  withal, 
And  drank  day-long  in  his  warship  as  in  his  father's  hall ; 
And  came  again  in  the  even :  now  hath  Gudrod  shared  the  spoil, 
And  throughout  that  day  of  summer  not  light  had  been  his  toil : 
Forsooth  his  heap  was  the  lesser ;  but  Sinfiotli  looked  thereon, 
And  saw  that  a  goodly  getting  had  Borghild's  brother  won. 
Clean-limbed  and  stark  were  the  horses,  and  the  neat  were  fat  and  sleek, 
And  the  men-thralls  young  and  stalwart,  and  the  women  young  and  meek ; 
Fair-gilt  was  the  harness  of  battle,  and  the  raiment  fresh  and  bright, 
And  the  household  stuff  new-fashioned  for  lords'  and  earls'  delight. 
On  his  own  then  looked  Sinfiotli,  and  great  it  was  forsooth, 
4 


50  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  half-foundered  were  the  horses,  and  a  sight  for  all  men's  ruth 
Were  the  thin-ribbed  hungry  cow-kind ;  and  the  thralls  both  carle  and  quean 
Were  the  wilful,  the  weak,  and  the  witless,  and  the  old  and  the  ill-beseen ; 
Spoilt  was  the  harness  and  house-gear,  and  the  raiment  rags  of  cloth. 

Now  Sinfiotli's  men  beheld  it  and  grew  exceeding  wroth, 

But  Sinfiotli  laughed  and  answered  :  "The  day's  work  hath  been  meet: 

Thou  hast  done  well,  war-brother,  to  sift  the  chaff  from  the  wheat ; 

Nought  have  kings'  sons  to  meddle  with  the  refuse  of  the  earth. 

Nor  shall  warriors  burden  their  long-ships  with  things  of  nothing  worth.** 

Then  he  cried  across  the  sea-strand  in  a  voice  exceeding  great : 
"  Depart,  ye  thralls  of  the  battle ;   ye  have  nought  to  do  to  wait ! 
Old,  young,  and  good,  and  evil,  depart  and  share  the  spoil. 
That  burden  of  the  battle,  that  spring  and  seed  of  toil. 
— But  thou  king  of  the  greedy  heart,  thou  king  of  the  thievish  grip, 
What  now  wilt  thou  bear  to  the  sea-strand  and  set  within  my  ship 
To  buy  thy  life  from  the  slaying  ?     Unmeet  for  kings  to  hear 
Of  a  king  the  breaker  of  troth,  of  a  king  the  stealer  of  gear." 

Then  mad-wroth  waxed  King  Gudrod,  and  he  cried :  "  Stand  up,  my  men ! 
And  slay  this  wood-abider  lest  he  slay  his  brothers  again  !  '* 

But  no  sword  leapt  from  its  sheath,  and  his  men  shrank  back  in  dread : 
Then  Sinfiotli's  brow  grew  smoother,  and  at  last  he  spake  and  said : 
"  Indeed  thou  art  very  brother  of  my  father  Sigmund's  wife : 
Wilt  thou  do  so  much  for  thine  honour,  wilt  thou  do  so  much  for  thy  life, 
As  to  bide  my  sword  on  the  island  in  the  pale  of  the  hazel  wands  ? 
For  I  know  thee  no  battle-blencher,  but  a  valiant  man  of  thine  hands." 

Now  nought  King  Gudrod  gainsayeth,  and  men  dight  the  hazelled  field, 
And  there  on  the  morrow  morning  they  clash  the  sword  and  shield. 
And  the  fallow  blades  are  leaping :  short  is  the  tale  to  tell, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  51 

For  with  the  third  stroke  stricken  to  field  King  Gudrod  fell. 

So  there  in  the  holm  they  lay  him ;  and  plenteous  store  of  gold 

Sinfiotli  lays  beside  him  amid  that  hall  of  mould ; 

"  For  he  gripped,"  saith  the  son  of  Sigmund,  "  and  gathered  for  such  a  day/ 

Then  Sinfiotli  and  his  fellows  o'er  the  sea-flood  sail  away, 

And  come  to  the  land  of  the  Volsungs :  but  Borghild  heareth  the  tale, 

And  into  the  hall  she  cometh  with  eager  face  and  pale 

As  the  kings  were  feasting  together,  and  glad  was  Sigmund  grown 

Of  the  words  of  Sinfiotli's  battle,  and  the  tale  of  his  great  renown : 

And  there  sat  the  sons  of  Borghild,  and  they  hearkened  and  were  glad 

Of  their  brother  born  in  the  wild-wood,  and  the  crown  of  fame  he  had. 

So  she  stood  before  King  Sigmund,  and  spread  her  hands  abroad : 
"  I  charge  thee  now.  King  Sigmund,  as  thou  art  the  Volsungs'  lord, 
To  tell  me  of  my  brother,  why  cometh  h^  not  from  the  sea  ? " 

Quoth  Sinfiotli :  "  Well  thou  wottest  and  the  tale  hath  come  to  thee . 
The  white  swords  met  in  the  island  j  bright  there  did  the  war-shields  shine, 
And  there  thy  brother  abideth,  for  his  hand  was  worser  than  mine." 

But  she  heeded  him  never  a  whit,  but  cried  on  Sigmund  and  said : 
"  I  charge  thee  now,  King  Sigmund,  as  thou  art  the  lord  of  my  bed, 
To  drive  this  wolf  of  the  King-folk  from  out  thy  guarded  land ; 
Lest  all  we  of  thine  house  and  kindred  should  fall  beneath  his  hand." 

Then  spake  King  Sigmund  the  Volsung :  "  When  thou  hast  heard  the  tale 

Thou  shalt  know  that  somewhat  thy  brother  of  his  oath  to  my  son  did  fail  j 

Nor  fell  the  man  all  sackle'is :  nor  yet  need  Sigmund's  son 

For  any  slain  in  sword-fiel  f  to  any  soul  atone. 

Yet  for  the  love  I  bear  thee,  and  because  thy  love  I  know, 

And  because  the  man  was  mighty,  and  far  afield  would  go, 

I  will  lay  down  a  mighty  weregild,  a  heap  of  the  ruddy  gold." 


52  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  no  word  answered  Borghild,  for  her  heart  was  grim  and  cold  ; 

And  she  went  from  the  hall  of  the  feasting,  and  lay  in  her  bower  a  while  , 

Nor  speech  she  took,  nor  gave  it,  but  brooded  deadly  guile. 

And  now  again  on  the  morrow  to  Sigmund  the  king  she  went, 

And  she  saith  that  her  wrath  hath  failed  her,  and  that  well  is  she  content 

To  take  the  king's  atonement ;  and  she  kissed  him  soft  and  sweet, 

And  she  kissed  Sinfiotli  his  son,  and  sat  down  in  the  golden  seat 

All  merry  and  glad  by  seeming,  and  blithe  to  most  and  least. 

And  again  she  biddeth  King  Sigmund  that  he  hold  a  funeral  feast 

For  her  brother  slain  on  the  island ;  and  nought  he  gainsayeth  her  will. 

And  so  on  an  eve  of  the  autumn  do  men  the  beakers  fill,  [green  j 

And  the  earls  are  gathered  together  'neath  the  boughs  of  the  Branstock 
There  gold-clad  mid  the  feasting  went  Borghild,  Sigmund's  Queen, 
And  she  poured  the  wine  for  Sinfiotli,  and  smiled  in  his  face  and  said : 
"  Drink  now  of  this  cup  from  mine  hand,  and  bury  we  hate  that  is  dead." 

So  he  took  the  cup  from  her  fingers,  nor  drank  but  pondered  long 
O'er  the  gathering  days  of  his  labour,  and  the  intermingled  wrong. 

Now  he  sat  by  the  side  of  his  father ;  and  Sigmund  spake  a  word : 
"  O  son,  why  sittest  thou  silent  mid  the  glee  of  earl  and  lord  ? " 

"I  look  in  the  cup,"  quoth  Sinfiotli,  "  and  hate  therein  I  see." 

"Well  looked  it  is,"  said  Sigmund,  "give  thou  the  cup  to  me." 
And  he  drained  it  dry  to  the  bottom ;  for  ye  mind  how  it  was  writ 
That  this  king  might  drink  of  venom,  and  have  no  hurt  of  it. 
But  the  song  sprang  up  in  the  hall,  and  merry  was  Sigmund's  heart, 
And  he  drank  of  the  wine  of  King-folk  and  thrust  all  care  apart. 

Then  the  second  time  came  Borghild  and  stood  before  the  twain, 
And  she  said :  "  O  valiant  step-son,  how  oft  shall  I  say  it  in  vain, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  53 

That  my  hate  for  thee  hath  perished,  and  the  love  hath  sprouted  green  f 
Wilt  thou  thrust  my  gift  away,  and  shame  the  hand  of  a  queen  ?  " 

So  he  took  the  cup  from  her  fingers,  and  pondered  over  it  long,       [wrong. 
And  thought  on  the  labour  that  should  be,  and  the  wrong  that  amendeth 

Then  spake  Sigmund  the  King :  "  O  son  what  aileth  thine  heart, 
When  the  earls  of  men  are  merry,  and  thrust  all  care  apart  ? " 

But  he  said :  "  I  have  looked  in  the  cup,  and  I  see  the  deadly  snare." 

"Well  seen  it  is,"  quoth  Sigmund,  "but  thy  burden  I  may  bear." 

And  he  took  the  beaker  and  drained  it,  and  the  song  rose  up  in  the  hall  j 

And  fair  bethought  King  Sigmund  his  latter  days  befall. 

But  again  came  Borghild  the  Queen  and  stood  with  the  cup  in  her  hand, 
And  said :  "  They  are  idle  liars,  those  singers  of  every  land 
Who  sing  how  thou  f earest  nothing ;  for  thou  losest  valour  and  might. 
And  art  fain  to  live  for  ever." 

Then  she  stretched  forth  her  fingers  white, 
And  he  took  the  cup  from  her  hand,  nor  drank,  but  pondered  long 
Of  the  toil  that  begetteth  toil,  and  the  wrong  that  beareth  wrong. 

But  Sigmund  turned  him  about,  and  he  said :  "  What  aileth  thee,  son  ? " 
Shall  our  life-days  never  be  merry,  and  our  labour  never  be  done  ? " 

But  Sinfiotli  said :  "  I  have  looked,  and  lo  there  is  death  in  the  cup." 

And  the  song,  and  the  tinkling  of  harp-strings  to  the  roof-tree  winded  up : 
And  Sigmund  was  dreamy  with  wine  and  the  wearing  of  many  a  year  j 
And  the  noise  and  the  glee  of  the  people  as  the  sound  of  the  wild  woods  were 
And  the  blossoming  boughs  of  the  Branstock  were  the  wild  trees  waving 
about  j 


54  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

So  he  said  :  "Well  seen,  my  fosterling;  let  the  lip  then  strain  it  out.' 
Then  Sinfiotli  laughed  and  answered  :  "  I  drink  unto  Odin  then, 
And  the  Dwellers  up  in  God-home,  the  lords  of  the  lives  of  men." 

He  drank  as  he  spake  the  word,  and  forthwith  the  venom  ran 

In  a  chill  flood  over  his  heart,  and  down  fell  the  mighty  man 

With  never  an  uttered  death-word  and  never  a  death-changed  look, 

And  the  floor  of  the  hall  of  the  Volsungs  beneath  his  falling  shook. 

Then  up  rose  the  elder  of  days  with  a  great  and  bitter  cry 

And  lifted  the  head  of  the  fallen,  and  none  durst  come  anigh 

To  hearken  the  words  of  his  sorrow,  if  any  words  he  said 

But  such  as  the  Father  of  all  men  might  speak  over  Baldur  dead. 

And  again,  as  before  the  death-stroke,  waxed  the  hall  of  the  Volsungs  dim 

And  once  more  he  seemed  in  the  forest,  where  he  spake  with  nought  but  him. 

Then  he  lifted  him  up  from  the  hall-floor  and  bore  him  on  his  breast. 

And  men  who  saw  Sinfiotli  deemed  his  heart  had  gotten  rest. 

And  his  eyes  were  no  more  dreadful.     Forth  fared  the  Volsung  child 

With  Signy's  son  through  the  doorway  ;  and  the  wind  was  great  and  wild, 

And  the  moon  rode  high  in  the  heavens,  and  whiles  it  shone  out  bright. 

And  whiles  the  clouds  drew  over.     So  went  he  through  the  night. 

Until  the  dwellings  of  man-folk  were  a  long  while  left  behind. 

Then  came  he  unto  the  thicket  and  the  houses  of  the  wind, 

And  the  feet  of  the  hoary  mountains,  and  the  dwellings  of  the  deer, 

And  the  heaths  without  a  shepherd,  and  the  houseless  dales  and  drear. 

Then  lo,  a  mighty  water,  a  rushing  flood  and  wide, 

And  no  ferry  for  the  shipless ;  so  he  went  along  its  side, 

As  a  man  that  seeketh  somewhat :  but  it  widened  toward  the  sea, 

And  the  moon  sank  down  in  the  west,  and  he  went  o'er  a  desert  lea. 

But  lo,  in  that  dusk  ere  the  dawning  a  glimmering  over  the  flood 

And  the  sound  of  the  cleaving  of  waters,  and  Sigmund  the  Volsung  stood 

By  the  edge  of  the  swirling  eddy,  and  a  white-sailed  boat  he  saw, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  55 

And  its  keel  ran  light  on  the  strand  with  the  last  of  the  dying  flaw. 
But  therein  was  a  man  most  mighty,  grey-clad  like  the  mountain-cloud, 
One-eyed  and  seeming  ancient,  and  he  spake  and  hailed  him  aloud : 

"  Now  whither  away.  King  Sigmund,  for  thou  farest  far  to-night  ? " 

Spake  the  King  :  "  I  would  cross  this  water,  for  my  life  hath  lost  its  light, 
And  mayhap  there  be  deeds  for  a  king  to  be  found  on  the  further  shore." 

"My  senders,"  quoth  the  shipman,  "bade  me  waft  a  great  king  o'er, 
So  set  thy  burden  a  ship-board,  for  the  night's  face  looks  toward  day." 

So  betwixt  the  earth  and  the  water  his  son  did  Sigmund  lay ; 

But  lo,  when  he  fain  would  follow,  there  was  neither  ship  nor  man, 

Nor  aught  but  his  empty  bosom  beside  that  water  wan. 

That  whitened  by  little  and  little  as  the  night's  face  looked  to  the  day. 

So  he  stood  a  long  while  gazing  and  then  turned  and  gat  him  away ; 

And  ere  the  sun  of  the  noon-tide  across  the  meadows  shone 

Sigmund  the  King  of  the  Volsungs  was  set  in  his  father's  throne,      [king. 

And  he  hearkened  and  doomed  and  portioned,  and  did  all  the  deeds  of  a 

So  the  autumn  waned  and  perished,  and  the  winter  brought  the  spring. 


Of  the  last  battle  of  King  Sigmund^  and  the  death  of  him. 

Now  is  Queen  Borghild  driven  from  the  Volsung's  bed  and  board. 

And  unwedded  sitteth  Sigmund  an  exceeding  mighty  lord, 

And  fareth  oft  to  the  war-field,  and  addeth  fame  to  fame : 

And  where'er  are  the  great  ones  told  of  his  sons  shall  the  people  name  ; 

But  short  was  their  day  of  harvest  and  their  reaping  of  renown, 

And  while  men  stood  by  to  marvel  they  gained  their  latest  crown. 

So  Sigmund  alone  abideth  of  all  the  Volsung  seed. 

And  the  folk  that  the  Gods  had  fashioned  lest  the  earth  should  lack  a  deed 


$6  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  he  said :  "  The  tree  was  stalwart,  but  its  boughs  are  old  and  worn. 
Where  now  are  the  children  departed,  that  amidst  my  life  were  bom  ? 
I  know  not  the  men  about  me,  and  they  know  not  of  my  ways : 
I  am  nought  but  a  picture  of  battle,  and  a  song  for  the  people  to  praise. 
I  must  strive  with  the  deeds  of  my  kingship,  and  yet  when  mine  hour  is  come 
It  shall  meet  me  as  glad  as  the  goodman  when  he  bringeth  the  last  load 

[home." 
Now  there  was  a  king  of  the  Islands,  whom  the  tale  doth  Eylimi  call, 
And  saith  he  was  wise  and  valiant,  though  his  kingdom  were  but  small : 
He  had  one  only  daughter  that  Hiordis  had  to  name, 
A  woman  wise  and  shapely  beyond  the  praise  of  fame. 
And  now  saith  the  son  of  King  Volsung  that  his  time  is  short  enow 
To  labour  the  Volsung  garden,  and  the  hand  must  be  set  to  the  plough 
So  he  sendeth  an  earl  of  the  people  to  King  Eylimi's  high-built  hall 
Bearing  the  gifts  and  the  tokens,  and  this  word  in  his  mouth  withal : 

**  King  Sigmund  the  son  of  Volsung  hath  sent  me  here  with  a  word 
That  plenteous  good  of  thy  daughter  among  all  folk  he  hath  heard, 
And  he  wooeth  that  wisest  of  women  that  she  may  sit  on  his  throne, 
And  lie  in  the  bed  of  the  Volsungs,  and  be  his  wife  alone. 
And  he  saith  that  he  thinketh  surely  she  shall  bear  the  kings  of  the  ea.  / , 
And  maybe  the  best  and  the  greatest  of  all  who  are  deemed  of  worth. 
Now  hereof  would  he  have  an  answer  within  a  half-month's  space. 
And  these  gifts  meanwhile  he  giveth  for  the  increase  of  thy  grace." 

So  King  Eylimi  hearkeneth  the  message,  and  hath  no  word  to  say, 
For  an  earl  of  King  Lyngi  the  mighty  is  come  that  very  day, 
He  too  for  the  wooing  of  Hiordis :  and  Lyngi's  realm  is  at  hand, 
But  afar  King  Sigmund  abideth  o'er  many  a  sea  and  land : 
And  the  man  is  young  and  eager,  and  grim  and  guileful  of  mood. 

At  last  he  sayeth :  "  Abide  here  such  space  as  thou  deemest  good. 

But  tomorn  shalt  thou  have  thine  answer  that  thine  heart  may  the  lighter  be 


BOOK  I,     SIGMUND.  57 

For  the  hearkening  of  harp  and  songcraft,  and  the  dealing  with  game  and 

glee." 
Then  he  went  to  Queen  Hiordis'  bower,  where  she  worked  in  the  silk  and 

the  gold 
The  deeds  of  the  world  that  should  be,  and  the  deeds  that  were  of  old. 
And  he  stood  before  her  and  said : 

"  I  have  spoken  a  word,  time  was, 
That  thy  will  should  rule  thy  wedding ;  and  now  hath  it  come  to  pass 
That  again  two  kings  of  the  people  will  woo  thy  body  to  bed." 

So  she  rose  to  her  feet  and  hearkened  :    "  And  which  be  they  ? "  she  said. 

He  spake  :  "  The  first  is  Lyngi,  a  valiant  man  and  a  fair, 
A  neighbour  ill  for  thy  father,  if  a  foe's  name  he  must  bear : 
And  the  next  is  King  Sigmund  the  Volsung  of  a  land  far  over  sea. 
And  well  thou  knowest  his  kindred,  and  his  might  and  his  valiancy. 
And  the  tales  of  his  heart  of  a  God ;  and  though  old  he  be  waxen  now. 
Yet  men  deem  that  the  wide  world's  blossom  from  Sigmund's  loins  shall 

[grow." 
Said  Hiordis  :  "  I  wot,  my  father,  that  hereof  may  strife  arise ; 
Yet  soon  spoken  is  mine  answer ;  for  I,  who  am  called  the  wise, 
Shall  I  thrust  by  the  praise  of  the  people,  and  the  tale  that  no  ending  hath. 
And  the  love  and  the  heart  of  the  godlike,  and  the  heavenward-leading  path. 
For  the  rose  and  the  stem  of  the  lily,  and  the  smooth-lipped  youngling's 
And  the  eyes'  desire  that  passeth,  and  the  frail  unstable  bliss .?  [kiss, 

Now  shalt  thou  tell  King  Sigmund,  that  I  deem  it  the  crown  of  my  life 
To  dwell  in  the  house  of  his  fathers  amidst  all  peace  and  strife, 
And  to  bear  the  sons  of  his  body :  and  indeed  full  well  I  know 
That  fair  from  the  loins  of  Sigmund  shall  such  a  stem  out-grow 
That  all  folk  of  the  earth  shall  be  praising  the  womb  where  once  he  lay 
And  the  paps  that  his  lips  have  cherished,  and  shall  bless  my  happy  day." 

Now  the  king's  heart  sore  misgave  him,  but  herewith  must  he  be  content. 


58  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  great  gifts  to  the  earl  of  Lyngi  and  a  word  withal  he  sent, 
That  the  woman's  troth  was  plighted  to  another  people's  king. 
But  King  Sigmund's  earl  on  the  morrow  hath  joyful  yea-saying, 
And  ere  two  moons  be  perished  he  shall  fetch  his  bride  away. 
''And  bid  him,"  King  Eylimi  sayeth,  "to  come  with  no  small  array, 
But  with  sword  and  shield  and  war-shaft,  lest  aught  of  ill  betide." 

So  forth  goes  the  earl  of  Sigmund  across  the  sea-flood  wide, 

And  comes  to  the  land  of  the  Volsungs,  and  meeteth  Sigmund  the  king 

And  tells  how  he  sped  on  his  errand,  and  the  joyful  yea-saying. 

So  King  Sigmund  maketh  him  ready,  and  they  ride  adown  to  the  sea 

All  glorious  of  gear  and  raiment,  and  a  goodly  company. 

Yet  hath  Sigmund  thought  of  his  father,  and  the  deed  he  wrought  before 

And  hath  scorn  to  gather  his  people  and  all  his  hosts  of  war 

To  wend  to  the  feast  and  the  wedding :  yet  are  their  long- ships  ten, 

And  the  shielded  folk  aboard  them  are  the  mightiest  men  of  men. 

So  Sigmund  goeth  a  shipboard,  and  they  hoist  their  sails  to  the  wind. 

And  the  beaks  of  the  golden  dragons  leave  the  Volsungs'  land  behind. 

Then  come  they  to  Eylimi's  kingdom,  and  good  welcome  have  they  there, 

And  when  Sigmund  looked  on  Hiordis,  he  deemed  her  wise  and  fair. 

But  her  heart  was  exceeding  fain  when  she  saw  the  glorious  king, 

And  it  told  her  of  times  that  should  be  full  many  a  noble  thing. 

So  there  is  Sigmund  wedded  at  a  great  and  goodly  feast. 
And  day  by  day  on  Hiordis  the  joy  of  her  heart  increased ; 
And  her  father  joyed  in  Sigmund  and  his  might  and  majesty. 
And  dead  in  the  heart  of  the  isle-king  his  ancient  fear  did  lie. 

Yet,  forsooth,  had  men  looked  seaward,  they  had  seen  the  gathering  cloud, 
And  the  little  wind  arising,  that  would  one  day  pipe  so  loud. 
For  well  may  ye  wot  indeed  that  King  Lyngi  the  Mighty  is  wroth,     [troth :: 
When  he  getteth  the  gifts  and  the  answer,  and  that  tale  of  the  woman's 
And  he  saith  he  will  have  the  gifts  and  the  woman  herself  withal, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  59 

Either  for  loving  or  hating,  and  that  both  those  heads  shall  fall. 

So  now  when  Sigmund  and  Hiordis  are  wedded  a  month  or  more, 

And  the  Volsung  bids  men  dight  them  to  cross  the  sea-flood  o'er, 

Lo,  how  there  cometh  the  tidings  of  measureless  mighty  hosts  [coasts, 

Who  are  gotten  ashore  from  their  long-ships  on  the  skirts  of  King  Eylimi's 

Sore  boded  the  heart  of  the  Isle-king  of  what  the  end  should  be. 
But  Sigmund  long  beheld  him,  and  he  said  :  "  Thou  deem'st  of  me 
" "  hat  my  coming  hath  brought  thee  evil ;  but  put  aside  such  things  ; 
1?or  long  have  I  lived,  and  I  know  it,  that  the  lives  of  mighty  kings 
A.re  not  cast  away,  nor  drifted  like  the  down  before  the  wind  ; 
And  surely  I  know,  who  say  it,  that  never  would  Hiordis'  mind 
Have  been  turned  to  wed  King  Lyngi  or  aught  but  the  Volsung  seed. 
Come,  go  we  forth  to  the  battle,  that  shall  be  the  latest  deed 
Of  thee  and  me  meseemeth  :  yea,  whether  thou  live  or  die. 
No  more  shall  the  brand  of  Odin  at  peace  in  his  scabbard  lie." 

And  therewith  he  brake  the  peace-strings  and  drew  the  blade  of  bale, 
And  Death  on  the  point  abided,  Fear  sat  on  the  edges  pale. 

So  men  ride  adown  to  the  sea-strand,  and  the  kings  their  hosts  array 
When  the  high  noon  flooded  heaven  ;  and  the  men  of  the  Volsungs  lay 
With  King  Eylimi's  shielded  champions  mid  Lyngi's  hosts  of  war 
As  the  brown  pips  lie  in  the  apple  when  ye  cut  it  through  the  core. 

Bat  now  when  the  kings  were  departed,  from  the  King's  house  Hiordis  went, 

I?  nd  before  men  joined  the  battle  she  came  to  a  woody  bent. 

Where  she  lay  with  one  of  her  maidens  the  death  and  the  deeds  to  behold. 

An  the  noon  sun  shone  King  Sigmund  as  an  image  all  of  gold, 

And  he  stood  before  the  foremost  and  the  banner  of  his  fame. 

And  many  a  thing  he  remembered,  and  he  called  on  each  earl  by  his  name 

To  do  well  for  the  house  of  the  Volsungs,  and  the  ages  yet  unborn. 


6o  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG 

Then  he  tossed  up  the  sword  of  the  Branstock,  and  blew  on  his  father  s  horn, 
Dread  of  so  many  a  battle,  doom-song  of  so  many  a  man. 
Then  all  the  earth  seemed  moving  as  the  hosts  of  Lyngi  ran 
On  the  Volsung  men  and  the  Isle-folk  like  wolves  upon  the  prey ; 
But  sore  was  their  labor  and  toil  ere  the  end  of  their  harvesting  day. 

On  went  the  Volsung  banners,  and  on  went  Sigmund  before,  [floor. 

And  his  sword  was  the  flail  of  the  tiller  on  the  wheat  of  the  wheat-thrashing 
And  his  shield  was  rent  from  his  arm,  and  his  helm  was  sheared  from  his 

[head  : 
But  who  may  draw  nigh  him  to  smite  for  the  heap  and  the  rampart  of  dead  ? 
White  went  his  hair  on  the  wind  like  the  ragged  drift  of  the  cloud. 
And  his  dust-driven,  blood-beaten  harness  was  the  death-storm's  angry 

shroud. 
When  the  summer  sun  is  departing  in  the  first  of  the  night  of  wrack  ; 
And  his  sword  was  the  cleaving  lightning,  that  smites  and  is  hurried  aback 
Ere  the  hand  may  rise  against  it ;  and  his  voice  was  the  following  thunder. 

[wonder : 
Then  cold  grew  the  battle  before  him  dead-chilled  with  the  fear  and  the 
For  again  in  his  ancient  eyes  the  light  of  victory  gleamed ; 
From  his  mouth  grown  tuneful  and  sweet  the  song  of  his  kindred  streamed ; 
And  no  more  was  he  worn  and  weary,  and  no  more  his  life  seemed  spent : 
And  with  all  the  hope  of  his  childhood  was  his  wrath  of  battle  blent ; 
And  he  thought :  A  little  further,  and  the  river  of  strife  is  passed, 
And  I  shall  sit  triumphant  the  king  of  the  world  at  last. 

But  lo,  through  the  hedge  of  the  war-shafts  a  mighty  man  there  came, 
One-eyed  and  seeming  ancient,  but  his  visage  shone  like  flame : 
Gleaming-grey  was  his  kirtle,  and  his  hood  was  cloudy  blue  ; 
And  he  bore  a  mighty  twi-bill,  as  he  waded  the  fight-sheaves  through, 
And  stood  face  to  face  with  Sigmund,  and  upheaved  the  bill  to  smite. 
Once  more  round  the  head  of  the  Volsung  fierce  glittered  the  Branstock'g 
The  sword  that  came  from  Odin ;  and  Sigmund's  cry  once  more         [light, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  61 

Rang  out  to  the  very  heavens  above  the  din  of  war. 

Then  clashed  the  meeting  edges  with  Sigmund's  latest  stroke, 

And  in  shivering  shards  fell  earthward  that  fear  of  worldly  folk. 

But  changed  were  the  eyes  of  Sigmund,  and  the  war-wrath  left  his  face ; 

For  that  grey-clad  mighty  helper  was  gone,  and  in  his  place 

Drave  on  the  unbroken  spear-wood  'gainst  the  Volsung's  empty  hands : 

And  there  they  smote  down  Sigmund,  the  wonder  of  all  lands. 

On  the  foemen,  on  the  death-heap  his  deeds  had  piled  that  day. 

Ill  hour  for  Sigmund's  fellows  !  they  fall  like  the  seeded  hay 

Before  the  brown  scythes'  sweeping,  and  there  the  Isle-king  fell 

In  the  fore  front  of  his  battle,  wherein  he  wrought  right  well. 

And  soon  they  were  nought  but  foemen  who  stand  upon  their  feet 

On  the  isle -strand  by  the  ocean  where  the  grass  and  the  sea-sand  meet 

And  now  hath  the  conquering  War-king  another  deed  to  do. 

And  he  saith :  "  Who  now  gainsayeth  King  Lyngi  come  to  woo. 

The  lord  and  the  overcomer  and  the  bane  of  the  Volsung  kin  ? " 

So  he  fares  to  the  Isle-king's  dwelling  a  wife  of  the  kings  to  win  j 

And  the  host  is  gathered  together,  and  they  leave  the  field  of  the  dead ; 

And  round  as  a  targe  of  the  Goth-folk  the  moon  ariseth  red. 

And  so  when  the  last  is  departed,  and  she  deems  they  will  come  not  aback 
Fares  Hiordis  forth  from  the  thicket  to  the  field  of  the  fateful  wrack. 
And  half-dead  was  her  heart  for  sorrow  as  she  waded  the  swathes  of  the 

sword. 
Not  far  did  she  search  the  death-field  ere  she  found  her  king  and  lord 
On  the  heap  that  his  glaive  had  fashioned :  not  yet  was  his  spirit  past. 
Though  his  hurts  were  many  and  grievous,  and  his  life-blood  ebbing  fast ; 
And  glad  were  his  eyes  and  open  as  her  wan  face  over  him  hung 
And  he  spake : 

*'  Thou  art  sick  with  sorrow,  and  I  would  thou  wert  not  so  young 


62  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Vet  as  my  days  passed  shall  thine  pass ;  and  a  short  while  now  it  seems 
Since  my  hand  first  gripped  the  sword-hilt,  and  my  glory  was  but  in  dreams.' 

She  said  :  "  Thou  livest,  thou  livest !  the  leeches  shall  heal  thee  still." 

"Nay,"  said  he,  "my  heart  hath  hearkened  to  Odin's  bidding  and  will ; 

For  today  have  mine  eyes  beheld  him :  nay,  he  needed  not  to  speak : 

Forsooth  I  knew  of  his  message  and  the  thing  he  came  to  seek. 

And  now  do  I  live  but  to  tell  thee  of  the  days  that  are  yet  to  come  : 

And  perchance  to  solace  thy  sorrow ;  and  then  will  I  get  me  home 

To  my  kin  that  are  gone  before  me.     Lo,  yonder  where  I  stood 

The  shards  of  a  glaive  of  battle  that  was  once  the  best  of  the  good : 

Take  them  and  keep  them  surely.     I  have  lived  no  empty  days ; 

The  Norns  were  my  nursing  mothers  ;  I  have  won  the  people's  praise. 

When  the  Gods  for  one  deed  asked  me  I  ever  gave  them  twain ; 

Spendthrift  of  glory  I  was,  and  great  was  my  life-days'  gain ; 

Now  these  shards  have  been  my  fellow  in  the  work  the  Gods  would  have, 

But  today  hath  Odin  taken  the  gift  that  once  he  gave. 

I  have  wrought  for  the  Volsungs  truly,  and  yet  have  I  known  full  well 

That  a  better  one  than  I  am  shall  bear  the  tale  to  tell : 

And  for  him  shall  these  shards  be  smithied ;  and  he  shall  be  my  son 

To  remember  what  I  have  forgotten  and  to  do  what  I  left  undone. 

Under  thy  girdle  he  lieth,  and  how  shall  I  say  unto  thee, 

Unto  thee,  the  wise  of  women,  to  cherish  him  heedfully. 

Now,  wife,  put  by  thy  sorrow  for  the  little  day  we  have  had ; 

For  in  sooth  I  deem  thou  weepest :  The  days  have  been  fair  and  glad : 

And  our  valour  and  wisdom  have  met,  and  thou  knowest  they  shall  not  die 

Sweet  and  good  were  the  days,  nor  yet  to  the  Fates  did  we  cry 

For  a  little  longer  yet,  and  a  little  longer  to  live : 

But  we  took,  we  twain  in  our  meeting,  all  gifts  that  they  had  to  give : 

Our  wisdom  and  valour  have  kissed,  and  thine  eyes  shall  see  the  fruit, 

And  the  joy  for  his  days  that  shall  be  hath  pierced  mine  heart  to  the  root 

Grieve  not  for  me ;  for  thou  weepest  that  thou  canst  not  see  my  face 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  63 

How  its  beauty  is  not  departed,  nor  the  hope  of  mine  eyes  grown  base. 
Indeed  I  am  waxen  weary ;  but  who  heedeth  weariness 
That  hath  been  day-long  on  the  mountain  in  the  winter  weather's  stress, 
And  now  stands  in  the  lighted  doorway  and  seeth  the  king  draw  nigh 
And  heareth  men  dighting  the  banquet,  and  the  bed  wherein  he  shall  lie  ?  * 

Then  failed  the  voice  of  Sigmund ;  but  so  mighty  was  the  man, 

That  a  long  while  yet  he  lingered  till  the  dusky  night  grew  wan, 

And  she  sat  and  sorrowed  o'er  him,  but  no  more  a  word  he  spake. 

Then  a  .ong  way  over  the  sea-flood  the  day  began  to  break ; 

And  when  the  sun  was  arisen  a  little  he  turned  his  head 

Till  the  low  beams  bathed  his  eyen,  and  there  lay  Sigmund  dead. 

And  the  sun  rose  up  on  the  earth ;  but  where  was  the  Volsung  kin 

And  the  folk  that  the  Gods  had  begotten  the  praise  of  all  people  to  win  ? 


Ifow  King  Sigmund  the  Volsung  was  laid  in  mound  on  the  sea-side 
of  the  Isle-realm. 

Now  Hiordis  looked  from  the  dead,  and  her  eyes  strayed  down  to  the  sea, 

And  a  shielded  ship  she  saw,  and  a  war-dight  company, 

Who  beached  the  ship  for  the  landing :  so  swift  she  fled  away, 

And  once  more  to  the  depth  of  the  thicket,  wherein  her  handmaid  lay : 

And  she  said :  "  I  have  left  my  lord,  and  my  lord  is  dead  and  gone. 

And  he  gave  me  a  charge  full  heavy,  and  here  are  we  twain  alone. 

And  earls  from  the  sea  are  landing :  give  me  thy  blue  attire. 

And  take  my  purple  and  gold  and  my  crown  of  the  sea-flood's  fire. 

And  be  thou  the  wife  of  King  Volsung  when  men  of  our  names  shall  ask 

And  I  will  be  the  handmaid :  now  I  bid  thee  to  this  task. 

And  I  pray  thee  not  to  fail  me,  because  of  thy  faith  and  truth, 

And  because  I  have  ever  loved  thee,  and  thy  mother  fostered  my  youth. 

Yea,  because  my  womb  is  wealthy  with  a  gift  for  the  days  to  be. 

Now  do  this  deed  for  mine  asking  and  the  tale  shall  be  told  of  thee." 


64  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

So  the  other  nought  gainsaith  it  and  they  shift  their  raiment  there  : 
But  well  spoken  was  the  maiden,  and  a  woman  tall  and  fair. 

Now  the  lord  of  those  new -coming  men  was  a  king  and  a  son  of  a  king, 

King  Elf  the  son  of  the  Helper,  and  he  sailed  from  war-faring 

And  drew  anigh  to  the  Isle-realm  and  sailed  along  the  strand ; 

For  the  shipmen  needed  water  and  fain  would  go  a-land ; 

And  King  Elf  stood  hard  by  the  tiller  while  the  world  was  yet  a-cold : 

Then  the  red  sun  lit  the  dawning,  and  they  looked,  and  lo,  behold ! 

The  wrack  of  a  mighty  battle,  and  heaps  of  the  shielded  dead, 

And  a  woman  alive  amidst  them,  a  queen  with  crownbd  head, 

And  her  eyes  strayed  down  to  the  sea-strand,  and  she  saw  that  weaponed  folk; 

And  turned  and  fled  to  the  thicket :  then  the  lord  of  the  shipmen  spoke  : 

"  Lo,  here  shall  we  lack  for  water,  for  the  brooks  with  blood  shall  run, 

Yet  wend  we  ashore  to  behold  it  and  to  wot  of  the  deeds  late  done." 

So  they  turned  their  faces  to  Sigmund,  and  waded  the  swathes  of  the  sword. 
"O,  look  ye  long,"  said  the  Sea-king,  "for  here  lieth  a  mighty  lord  : 
And  all  these  are  the  deeds  of  his  war-flame,  yet  hardy  hearts,  be  sure, 
That  they  once  durst  look  in  his  face  or  the  wrath  of  his  eyen  endure ; 
Though  his  lips  be  glad  and  smiling  as  a  God  that  dreameth  of  mirth. 
Would  God  I  were  one  of  his  kindred,  for  none  such  are  left  upon  earth. 
Now  fare  we  into  the  thicket,  for  thereto  is  the  woman  fled, 
And  belike  she  shall  tell  us  the  story  of  this  field  of  the  mighty  dead." 

So  they  wend  and  find  the  women,  and  bespeak  them  kind  and  fair  : 
Then  spake  the  gold-crowned  handmaid :  "  Of  the  Isle-king's  house  we  were, 
And  I  am  the  Queen  called  Hiordis ;  and  the  man  that  lies  on  the  field 
Was  mine  own  lord  Sigmund  the  Volsung,  the  mightiest  under  shield." 

Then  all  amazed  were  the  sea-folk  when  they  hearkened  to  that  word, 
And  great  and  heavy  tidings  they  deem  their  ears  have  heard : 
But  again  spake  out  the  Sea-king :  "  And  this  blue-clad  one  beside, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  65 

So  pale,  and  as  tall  as  a  Goddess,  and  white  and  lovely-eyed  ? " 

"In  sooth  and  in  troth,"  said  the  woman,  "my  serving-maid  is  this; 
She  hath  wept  long  over  the  battle,  and  sore  afraid  she  is." 

Now  the  king  looks  hard  upon  her,  but  he  saith  no  word  thereto, 

And  down  again  to  the  death-field  with  the  women-folk  they  go. 

There  they  set  their  hands  to  the  labour,  and  amidst  the  deadly  mead 

They  raise  a  mound  for  Sigmund,  a  mighty  house  indeed ; 

And  therein  they  set  that  folk-king,  and  goodly  was  his  throne. 

And  dight  with  gold  and  scarlet :  and  the  walls  of  the  house  were  done 

With  the  cloven  shields  of  the  foemen,  and  banners  borne  to  field ; 

But  none  might  find  his  war-helm  or  the  splinters  of  his  shield. 

And  clenched  and  fast  was  his  right  hand,  but  no  sword  therein  he  had  : 

For  Hiordis  spake  to  the  shipmen : 

"  Our  lord  and  master  bade 
That  the  shards  of  his  glaive  of  battle  should  go  with  our  lady  the  Queen: 
And  by  them  that  lie  a-dying  a  many  things  are  seen." 

So  there  lies  Sigmund  the  Volsung,  and  far  away,  forlorn  [born. 

Are  the  blossomed  boughs  of  the  Branstock,  and  the  house  where  he  was 
To  what  end  was  wrought  that  roof-ridge,  and  the  rings  of  the  silver  door^ 
And  the  fair-carved  golden  high-seat,  and  the  many-pictured  floor 
Worn  down  by  the  feet  of  the  Volsungs  ?  or  the  hangings  of  delight. 
Or  the  marvel  of  its  harp-strings,  or  the  Dwarf-wrought  beakers  bright  ? 
Then  the  Gods  have  fashioned  a  folk  who  have  fashioned  a  house  in  vain : 
It  is  nought,  and  for  nought  they  battled,  and  nought  was  their  joy  and 

[their  pain. 
Lo,  the  noble  oak  of  the  forest  with  his  feet  in  the  flowers  and  grass, 
How  the  winds  that  bear  the  summer  o'er  its  topmost  branches  pass, 
And  the  wood-deer  dwell  beneath  it,  and  the  fowl  in  its  fair  twigs  sing, 
And  there  it  stands  in  the  forest,  an  exceeding  glorious  thing : 
Then  come  the  axes  of  men,  and  low  it  lies  on  the  ground, 
5 


66  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURE/  THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  the  crane  comes  out  of  the  southland,  and  its  nest  is  nowhere  found, 
And  bare  and  shorn  of  its  blossoms  is  the  house  of  the  deer  of  the  wood. 
But  the  tree  is  a  golden  dragon ;  and  fair  it  floats  on  the  flood, 
And  beareth  the  kings  and  the  earl-folk,  and  is  shield-hung  all  without : 
And  it  seeth  the  blaze  of  the  beacons,  and  heareth  the  war-God's  shout. 
There  are  tidings  wherever  it  cometh,  and  the  tale  of  its  time  shall  be  told. 
A  dear  name  it  hath  got  like  a  king,  and  a  fame  that  groweth  not  old. 

Lo,  such  is  the  Volsung  dwelling ;  lo,  such  is  the  deed  he  hath  wrought 
Who  laboured  all  his  life-days,  and  had  rest  but  little  or  nought, 
Who  died  in  the  broken  battle ;  who  lies  with  swordless  hand 
In  the  realm  that  the  foe  hath  conquered  on  the  edge  of  a  stranger-land. 


ITow  Queen  Hiordis  is  known;   and  how  she  ahideth  in  the  house  of 
Elf  the  son  of  the  Helper. 

^Qi^  asketh  the  king  of  those  women  where  now  in  the  world  they  will  g<v 
And  Hiordis  speaks  for  the  twain  :  "  This  is  now  but  a  land  of  the  foe. 
And  our  lady  and  Queen  beseecheth  that  unto  thine  house  we  wend 
And  that  there  thou  serve  her  kingly  that  her  woes  may  have  an  end." 

Fain  then  was  the  heart  of  the  folk-king,  and  he  bade  aboard  forth-right, 
And  they  hoist  the  sails  to  the  wind  and  sail  by  day  and  by  night 
Till  they  come  to  a  land  of  the  people,  and  a  goodly  land  it  is 
Where  folk  may  dwell  unharried  and  win  abundant  bliss. 
The  land  of  King  Elf  and  the  Helper;  and  there  he  bids  them  abide 
In  his  house  that  is  goodly  shapen,  and  wrought  full  high  and  wide  : 
And  he  biddeth  the  Queen  be  merry,  and  set  aside  her  woe. 
And  he  doth  by  them  better  and  better,  as  day  on  day  doth  go. 

Now  there  was  the  mother  of  Elf,  and  a  woman  wise  was  she. 

And  she  spake  to  her  son  of  a  morning :  "  I  have  noted  them  heedfully, 


BOOK  I.     SIGMUND.  67 

Those  women  thou  broughtst  from  the  outlands,  and  fain  now  would  T  wot 
Why  the  worser  of  the  women  the  goodlier  gear  hath  got." 

He  said :  "  She -hath  named  her  Hiordis,  the  wife  of  the  mightiest  king, 
E'en  Sigmund  the  son  of  Volsung  with  whose  name  the  world  doth  ring." 

Then  the  old  queen  laughed  and  answered :  "  Is  it  not  so,  my  son, 
That  the  handmaid  still  gave  counsel  when  aught  of  deeds  was  done  ?  " 

He  said  :  "  Yea,  she  spake  mostly  ;  and  her  words  were  exceeding  wise, 
And  measureless  sweet  I  deem  her,  and  dear  she  is  to  mine  eyes." 

But  she  said :  "  Do  after  my  counsel,  and  win  thee  a  goodly  queen : 
Speak  ye  to  the  twain  unwary,  and  the  truth  shall  soon  be  seen. 
And  again  shall  they  shift  their  raiment,  if  I  am  aught  but  a  fool." 

He  said :  "  Thou  sayst  well,  mother,  and  settest  me  well  to  school." 
So  he  spake  on  a  day  to  the  women,  and  said  to  the  gold-clad  one : 
"  How  wottest  thou  in  the  winter  of  the  coming  of  the  sun 
When  yet  the  world  is  darkling  ?  " 

She  said  :  "  In  the  days  of  my  youth 
I  dwelt  in  the  house  of  my  father,  and  fair  was  the  tide  forsooth. 
And  ever  I  woke  at  the  dawning,  for  folk  betimes  must  stir, 
Be  the  meadows  bright  or  darksome ;  and  I  drank  of  the  whey-tub  there 
As  much  as  the  heart  desired ;  and  now,  though  changed  be  the  days, 
I  wake  athirst  in  the  dawning,  because  of  my  wonted  ways." 

Then  laughed  King  Elf  and  answered  :  "  A  fashion  strange  enow, 
That  the  feet  of  the  fair  queen's-daughter  must  forth  to  follow  the  plough. 
Be  the  acres  bright  or  darkling  1     But  thou  with  the  eyes  of  grey, 
What  sign  hast  thou  to  tell  thee,  that  the  night  wears  into  day 
When  the  heavens  are  mirk  as  the  midnight  ?  " 

Said  she,  "  In  the  days  that  were 


68  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

My  father  gave  me  this  gold-ring  ye  see  on  my  finger  here, 

And  a  marvel  goeth  with  it :  for  when  night  waxeth  old 

I  feel  it  on  my  finger  grown  most  exceeding  cold, 

And  I  know  day  comes  through  the  darkness ;  and  such  is  my  dawning  sign. 

Then  laughed  King  Elf  and  answered  :  "  Thy  father's  house  was  fine  ; 
There  was  gold  enough  meseemeth  —  But  come  now,  say  the  word 
And  tell  me  the  speech  thou  spakest  awrong  mine  ears  have  heard, 
And  that  thou  wert  the  wife  of  Sigmund  the  wife  of  the  mightiest  King." 

No  whit  she  smiled,  but  answered.     "  Indeed  thou  sayest  the  thing : 
Such  a  wealth  I  had  in  my  storehouse  that  I  feared  the  Kings  of  men." 

He  said :  "  Yet  for  nought  didst  thou  hide  thee  ;  had  I  known  of  the  matter 
As  the  daughter  of  my  father  had  I  held  thee  in  good  sooth,  [then, 

For  dear  to  mine  eyes  wert  thou  waxen,  and  my  heart  of  thy  woe  was  ruth. 
But  now  shall  I  deal  with  thee  better  than  thy  dealings  to  me  have  been : 
For  my  wife  I  will  bid  thee  to  be,  and  the  people's  very  queen." 

She  said :    "  When  the  son  of  King  Sigmund  is  brought  forth  to  the  light 
And  the  world  a  man  hath  gotten,  thy  will  shall  I  nought  gainsay,    [of  day 
And  I  thank  thee  for  thy  goodness,  and  I  know  the  love  of  thine  heart; 
And  I  see  thy  goodly  kingdom,  thy  country  set  apart, 
With  the  day  of  peace  begirdled  from  the  change  and  the  battle's  wrack: 
'Tis  enough,  and  more  than  enough  since  none  prayeth  the  past  aback." 

Then  the  King  is  fain  and  merry,  and  he  deems  his  errand  sped. 
And  that  night  she  sits  on  the  high-seat  with  the  crown  on  her  shapely  head : 
And  amidst  the  song  and  the  joyance,  and  the  sound  of  the  people's  praise, 
She  thinks  of  the  days  that  have  been,  and  she  dreams  of  the  coming  days 

So  passeth  the  summer  season,  and  the  harvest  of  the  year, 
And  the  latter  da}  s  of  the  winter  on  toward  the  springtide  wear. 


BOOK   II. 

REGIN. 

NOW  THIS  IS  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  DEATH  OF  SIGURD  THE 
VOLSUNG,  AND  THEREIN  IS  TOLD  OF  THE  BIRTH  OF  HIM,  AND  OF  HIS 
DEALINGS  WITH  REGIN  THE  MASTER  OF  MASTERS,  AND  OF  HIS  DEEDS 
IN   THE   WASTE   PLACES   OF   THE   EARTH. 

Of  the  birth  of  Sigurd  the  son  of  Sigmund. 

T3EACE  lay  on  the  land  of  the  Helper  and  the  house  of  Elf  his  son ; 

-*-        There  merry  men  went  bedward  when  their  tide  of  toil  was  done, 

And  glad  was  the  dawn's  awakening,  and  the  noon-tide  fair  and  glad : 

There  no  great  store  had  the  franklin,  and  enough  the  hireling  had ; 

And  a  child  might  go  unguarded  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land 

With  a  purse  of  gold  at  his  girdle  and  gold  rings  on  his  hand. 

'T  was  a  country  of  cunning  craftsmen,  and  many  a  thing  they  wrought, 

That  the  lands  of  storm  desired,  and  the  homes  of  warfare  sought. 

But  men  deemed  it  o'er-well  warded  by  more  than  its  stems  of  fight, 

And  told  how  its  earth-born  watchers  yet  lived  of  plenteous  might. 

So  hidden  was  that  country,  and  few  men  sailed  its  sea. 

And  none  came  o'er  its  mountains  of  men-folk's  company. 

But  fair-fruited,  many-peopled,  it  lies  a  goodly  strip, 

'Twixt  the  mountains  cloudy-headed  and  the  sea-flood's  surging  lip. 

And  a  perilous  flood  is  its  ocean,  and  its  mountains,  who  shall  tell 

What  things  in  their  dales  deserted  and  their  wind-swept  heaths  may  dwell 

Now  a  man  of  the  Kings,  called  Gripir,  in  this  land  of  peace  abode : 
The  son  of  the  Helper's  father,  though  never  lay  his  load 


70  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

In  the  womb  of  the  mother  of  Kings  that  the  Helper's  brethren  bore  ; 

But  of  Giant  kin  was  his  mother,  of  the  folk  that  are  seen  no  more ; 

Though  whiles  as  ye  ride  some  fell-road  across  the  heath  there  comes 

The  voice  of  their  lone  lamenting  o'er  their  changed  and  conquered  homes 

A  long  way  off  from  the  sea-strand  and  beneath  the  mountains'  feet 

Is  the  high-built  hall  of  Gripir,  where  the  waste  and  the  tillage  meet ; 

A  noble  and  plentiful  house,  that  a  little  men-folk  fear, 

But  beloved  of  the  crag-dwelling  eagles  and  the  kin  of  the  woodland  deer. 

A  man  of  few  words  was  Gripir,  but  he  knew  of  all  deeds  that  had  been, 

And  times  there  came  upon  him,  when  the  deeds  to  be  were  seen : 

No  sword  had  he  held  in  his  hand  since  his  father  fell  to  field, 

And  against  the  life  of  the  slayer  he  bore  undinted  shield : 

Yet  no  fear  in  his  heart  abided,  nor  desired  he  aught  at  all. 

But  he  noted  the  deeds  that  had  been,  and  looked  for  what  should  befall. 

Again,  in  the  house  of  the  Helper  there  dwelt  a  certain  man 

Beardless  and  low  of  stature,  of  visage  pinched  and  wan : 

So  exceeding  old  was  Regin,  that  no  son  of  man  could  tell 

In  what  year  of  the  days  passed  over  he  came  to  that  land  to  dwell : 

But  the  youth  of  King  Elf  had  he  fostered,  and  the  Helper's  youth  thereto. 

Yea,  and  his  father's  father's :  the  lore  of  all  men  he  knew. 

And  was  deft  in  every  cunning,  save  the  dealings  of  the  sword. 

So  sweet  was  his  tongue-speech  fashioned,  that  men  trowed  his  every  word ; 

His  hand  with  the  harp-strings  blended  was  the  mingler  of  delight 

With  the  latter  days  of  sorrow ;  all  tales  he  told  aright ; 

The  Master  of  the  Masters  in  the  smithying  craft  was  he ; 

And  he  dealt  with  the  wind  and  the  weather  and  the  stilling  of  the  sea; 

Nor  might  any  learn  him  leech-craft,  for  before  that  race  was  made, 

And  that  man-folk's  generation,  all  their  life-days  had  he  weighed. 

In  this  land  abideth  Hiordis  amid  all  people's  praise 

Till  Cometh  the  time  appointed :  in  the  fullness  of  the  days 

Through  the  dark  and  the  dusk  she  travailed,  till  at  last  in  the  dawning  houi 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  71 

Have  the  deeds  of  the  Volsungs  blossomed,  and  born  their  latest  flower  j 
In  the  bed  there  lieth  a  man-child,  and  his  eyes  look  straight  on  the  sun, 
And  lo,  the  hope  of  the  people,  and  the  days  of  a  king  are  begun. 

Men  say  of  the  serving-women,  when  they  cried  on  the  joy  of  the  morn, 

When  they  handled  the  linen  raiment,  and  washed  the  king  new-born. 

When  they  bore  him  back  unto  Hiordis,  and  the  weary  and  happy  breast, 

And  bade  her  be  glad  to  behold  it,  how  the  best  was  sprung  from  the  best, 

Yet  they  shrank  in  their  rejoicing  before  the  eyes  of  the  child. 

So  bright  and  dreadful  were  they ;  yea  though  the  spring  morn  smiled, 

And  a  thousand  birds  were  singing  round  the  fair  familiar  home. 

And  still  as  on  other  mornings  they  saw  folk  go  and  come. 

Yet  the  hour  seemed  awful  to  them,  and  the  hearts  within  them  burned 

As  though  of  fateful  matters  their  souls  were  newly  learned. 

But  Hiordis  looked  on  the  Volsung,  on  her  grief  and  her  fond  desire, 
And  the  hope  of  her  heart  was  quickened,  and  her  joy  was  a  living  fire ; 
And  she  said :  "  Now  one  of  the  earthly  on  the  eyes  of  my  child  hath  gazed 
Nor  shrunk  before  their  glory,  nor  stayed  her  love  amazed : 
I  behold  thee  as  Sigmund  beholdeth, —  and  I  was  the  home  of  thine  heart  — 
Woe's  me  for  the  day  when  thou  wert  not,  and  the  hour  when  we  shall  part !  " 

Then  she  held  him  a  little  season  on  her  weary  and  happy  breast 
And  she  told  him  of  Sigmund  and  Volsung  and  the  best  sprung  forth  from 
She  spake  to  the  new-born  baby  as  one  who  might  understand,     [the  best. 
And  told  him  of  Sigmund's  battle,  and  the  dead  by  the  sea-flood's  strand, 
And  of  all  the  wars  passed  over,  and  the  light  with  darkness  blent. 

So  she  spake,  and  the  sun  rose  higher,  and  her  speech  at  last  was  spent, 
And  she  gave  him  back  to  the  women  to  bear  forth  to  the  people's  kings, 
That  they  too  may  rejoice  in  her  glory  and  her  day  of  happy  things. 

But  there  sat  the  Helper  of  Men  with  King  Elf  and  his  Earls  in  the  hall, 


72  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  they  spake  of  the  deeds  that  had  been,  and  told  of  the  times  to  befall, 
And  they  hearkened  and  heard  sweet  voices  and  the  sound  of  harps  draw 

nigh, 
Till  their  hearts  were  exceeding  merry  and  they  knew  not  wherefore  or  why  ; 
Then,  lo,  in  the  hall  white  raiment,  as  thither  the  damsels  came, 
And  amid  the  hands  of  the  foremost  was  the  woven  gold  aflame. 

"  O  daughters  of  earls,"  said  the  Helper,  "  what  tidings  then  do  ye  bear  ? 
Is  it  grief  in  the  merry  morning,  or  joy  or  wonder  or  fear  ? " 

[would  grieve. 
Quoth  the  first :  "  It  is  grief  for  the  foemen  that  the  masters  of  God-home 

[believe." 
Said  the  next :  "  'Tis  a  wonder  of  wonders,  that  the  hearkening  world  shall 

"  A  fear  of  all  fears,"  said  the  third,  "  for  the  sword  is  uplifted  on  men." 

"A  joy  of  all  joys,"  said  the  fourth,  "once  come,  and  it  comes  not  again!" 

"Lo,  son,"  said  the  ancient  Helper,  "glad  sit  the  earls  and  the  lords! 
Lookst  thou  not  for  a  token  of  tidings  to  follow  such-like  words  ? " 

[come." 
Saith  King  Elf :  "  Great  words  of  women !  or  great  hath  our  dwelling  be- 

[home." 
Said  the  women  :  "Words  shall  be  greater,  when  all  folk  shall  praise  our 

[gate?" 
"What  then  hath  betid,"  said  King  Elf,  "do  the  high  Gods  stand  in  our 

"  Nay,"  said  they,  "  else  were  we  silent,  and  they  should  be  telling  of  fate." 

"  Is  the  bidding  come,"  said  the  Helper,  "  that  we  wend  the  Gods  to  see  ? " 

[may  be." 
'•Many  summers  and  winters,"  they  Baid,  "ye  shall  live  on  the  earth,  it 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  73 

Said  a  young  man  :  "Will  ye  be  telling  that  all  we  shall  die  no  more  ?  " 

[at  the  door  ?  " 
"  Nay,"  they  answered,  "  Nay,  who  knoweth  but  the  change  may  be  hard 

[gold?^' 
"  Come  ships  from  the  sea,"  said  an  elder,  "  with  all  gifts  of  the  Eastland 

[was  told  ? " 
"Was  there  less  than  enough,"  said  the  women,  "when  last  our  treasure 

"  Speak  then,"  said  the  ancient  Helper,  "  let  the  worst  and  the  best  be  said." 

Quoth  they :  "  'Tis  the  Queen  of  the  Isle-folk,  she  is  weary-sick  on  her  bed." 

Said  King  Elf :  "  Yet  ye  come  rejoicing ;  what  more  lieth  under  the  tongue  ? " 

They  said  :  "  The  earth  is  weary ;  but  the  tender  blade  hath  sprung, 
That  shall  wax  till  beneath  its  branches  fair  bloom  the  meadows  green  j 
For  the  Gods  and  they  that  were  mighty  were  glad  erewhile  with  the  Queen." 

Said  King  Elf  :  "  How  say  ye,  women  ?     Of  a  King  new-born  do  ye  tell 
By  a  God  of  the  Heavens  begotten  in  our  fathers'  house  to  dwell  ?  " 

" By  a  God  of  the  Earth,"  they  answered ;  "but  greater  yet  is  the  son. 
Though  long  were  the  days  of  Sigmund,  and  great  are  the  deeds  he  hath 

[done." 
Then  she  with  the  golden  burden  to  the  kingly  high-seat  stepped 
And  away  from  the  new-born  baby  the  purple  cloths  she  swept. 
And  cried  :  "  O  King  of  the  people,  long  mayst  thou  live  in  bliss. 
As  our  hearts  today  are  happy !     Queen  Hiordis  sends  thee  this. 
And  she  saith  that  the  world  shall  call  it  by  the  name  that  thou  shalt  name ; 
Now  the  gift  to  thee  is  given,  and  to  thee  is  brought  the  fame." 

Then  e'en  as  a  man  astonied  King  Elf  the  Volsung  took, 


74  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

While  his  feast-hall's  ancient  timbers  with  the  cry  of  the  earl-folk  shook , 

For  the  eyes  of  the  child  gleamed  on  him  till  he  was  as  one  who  sees 

The  very  Gods  arising  mid  their  carven  images  : 

To  his  ears  there  came  a  murmur  of  far  seas  beneath  the  wind 

And  the  tramp  of  fierce-eyed  warriors  through  the  outland  forest  blind  ; 

The  sound  of  hosts  of  battle,  cries  round  the  hoisted  shield, 

Low  talk  of  the  gathered  wise-ones  in  the  Goth-folk's  holy  field  : 

So  the  thought  in  a  little  moment  through  King  Elf  the  Mighty  ran 

Of  the  years  and  their  building  and  burden,  and  toil  of  the  sons  of  marl, 

The  joy  of  folk  and  their  sorrow,  and  the  hope  of  deeds  to  do  : 

With  the  love  of  many  peoples  was  the  wise  king  smitten  through, 

As  he  hung  o'er  the  new-born  Volsung  :  but  at  last  he  raised  his  head, 

And  looked  forth  kind  o'er  his  people,  and  spake  aloud  and  said : 

"  O  Sigmund  King  of  Battle  ;  O  man  of  many  days, 

Whom  I  saw  mid  the  shields  of  the  fallen  and  the  dead  men's  silent  praise, 

Lo,  how  hath  the  dark  tide  perished  and  the  dawn  of  day  begun ! 

And  now,  O  mighty  Sigmund,  wherewith  shall  we  name  thy  son  ?  " 

[Day! 
But  there  rose  up  a  man  most  ancient,  and  he  cried  :  "  Hail  Dawn  of  the 
How  many  things  shalt  thou  quicken,  how  many  shalt  thou  slay  ! 
How  many  things  shalt  thou  waken,  how  many  lull  to  sleep ! 
How  many  things  shalt  thou  scatter,  how  many  gather  anJ  keep  ! 
O  me,  how  thy  love  shall  cherish,  how  thine  hate  shall  wither  and  burn  ! 
How  the  hope  shall  be  sped  from  thy  right  hand,  nor  the  fear  to  thy  left 

return ! 
O  thy  deeds  that  men  shall  sing  of !  O  thy  deeds  that  the  Gods  shall  see ! 
O  SIGURD,  Son  of  the  Volsungs,  O  Victory  yet  to  be !  " 

Men  heard  the  name  and  they  knew  it,  and  they  caught  it  up  in  the  air, 
And  it  went  abroad  by  the  windows  and  the  doors  of  the  feast-hall  fair, 
It  went  through  street  and  market ;  o'er  meadow  and  acre  it  went. 
And  over  the  wind-stirred  forest  and  the  dearth  of  the  sea-beat  bent, 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  75 

And  over  the  sea-flood's  welter,  till  the  folk  of  the  fishers  heard, 

And  the  hearts  of  the  isle-abiders  on  the  sun-scorched  rocks  were  stirred. 

But  the  Queen  in  her  golden  chamber,  the  name  she  hearkened  and  knew ; 
And  she  heard  the  flock  of  the  women,  as  back  to  the  chamber  they  drew, 
And  the  name  of  Sigurd  entered,  and  the  body  of  Sigurd  was  come. 
And  it  was  as  if  Sigmund  were  living  and  she  still  in  her  lovely  home , 
Of  all  folk  of  the  world  was  she  well,  and  a  soul  fulfilled  of  rest 
As  alone  in  the  chamber  she  wakened  and  Sigurd  cherished  her  breast. 

But  men  feast  in  the  merry  noontide,  and  glad  is  the  April  green       [been. 

That  a  Volsung  looks  on  the  sunlight  and  the  night  and  the  darkness  have 

Earls  think  of  marvellous  stories,  and  along  the  golden  strings 

Flit  words  of  banded  brethren  and  names  of  war-fain  Kings : 

All  the  days  of  the  deeds  of  Sigmund  who  was  born  so  long  ago ; 

A.11  deeds  of  the  glorious  Signy,  and  her  tarrying-tide  of  woe ; 

Men  tell  of  the  years  of  Volsung,  and  how  long  agone  it  was 

That  he  changed  his  life  in  battle,  and  brought  the  tale  to  pass  : 

Then  goeth  the  word  of  the  Giants,  and  the  world  seems  waxen  old 

For  the  dimness  of  King  Rerir  and  the  tale  of  his  warfare  told : 

Yet  unhushed  are  the  singers'  voices,  nor  yet  the  harp-strings  cease 

While  yet  is  left  a  rumour  of  the  mirk-wood's  broken  peace. 

And  of  Sigi  the  very  ancient,  and  the  unnamed  Sons  of  God, 

Of  the  days  when  the  Lords  of  Heaven  full  oft  the  world-ways  trod. 

So  stilleth  the  wind  in  the  even  and  the  sun  sinks  down  in  the  sea, 
And  men  abide  the  morrow  and  the  Victory  yet  to  be. 


Sigurd  getteth  to  him  the  horse  that  is  called  Greyfell, 

Now  waxeth  the  son  of  Sigmund  in  might  and  goodliness, 
And  soft  the  days  win  over,  and  all  men  his  beauty  bless. 


76  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  amidst  the  summer  season  was  the  Isle-queen  Hiordis  wed 
To  King  Elf  the  son  of  the  Helper,  and  fair  their  life-days  sped. 
Peace  lay  on  the  land  for  ever,  and  the  fields  gave  good  increase, 
And  there  was  Sigurd  waxing  mid  the  plenty  and  the  peace. 

Now  hath  the  child  grown  greater,  and  is  keen  and  eager  of  wit 

And  full  of  understanding,  and  oft  hath  he  joy  to  sit 

Amid  talk  of  weighty  matters  when  the  wise  men  meet  for  speech ; 

And  joyous  he  is  moreover  and  blithe  and  kind  with  each. 

But  Regin  the  wise  craftsmaster  heedeth  the  youngling  well, 

And  before  the  Kings  he  cometh,  and  saith  such  words  to  tell. 

"  I  have  fostered  thy  youth,  King  Elf,  and  thine  O  Helper  of  men, 
And  ye  wot  that  such  a  master  no  king  shall  see  again ; 
And  now  would  I  foster  Sigurd  ;  for,  though  he  be  none  of  thy  blood, 
Mine  heart  of  his  days  that  shall  be  speaketh  abundant  good." 

Then  spake  the  Helper  of  men-folk :  "  Yea,  do  herein  thy  will : 
For  thou  art  the  Master  of  Masters,  and  hast  learned  me  all  my  skill : 
But  think  how  bright  is  this  youngling,  and  thy  guile  from  him  withhold ; 
For  this  craft  of  thine  hath  shown  me  that  thy  heart  is  grim  and  cold, 
Though  three  men's  lives  thrice  over  thy  wisdom  might  not  learn ; 
And  I  love  this  son  of  Sigmund,  and  mine  heart  to  him  doth  yearn." 

Then  Regin  laughed,  and  answered :  "  I  doled  out  cunning  to  thee ; 
But  nought  with  him  will  I  measure :  yet  no  cold-heart  shall  he  be. 
Nor  grim  nor  evil-natured :  for  whate'er  my  will  might  frame. 
Gone  forth  is  the  word  of  the  Norns,  that  abideth  ever  the  same. 
And  now,  despite  my  cunning,  how  deem  ye  I  shall  die  ? " 

And  they  said  he  would  live  as  he  listed,  and  at  last  in  peace  should  lie 
When  he  listed  to  live  no  longer ;  so  mighty  and  wise  he  was. 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  77 

But  again  he  laughed  and  answered :  "  One  day  it  shall  come  to  pass, 

That  a  beardless  youth  shall  slay  me :  I  know  the  fateful  doom  ; 

But  nought  may  I  withstand  it,  as  it  heaves  up  dim  through  the  gloom. " 

So  is  Sigurd  now  with  Regin,  and  he  learns  him  many  things ; 
Yea,  all  save  the  craft  of  battle,  that  men  learned  the  sons  of  kings : 
The  smithying  sword  and  war-coat ;  the  carving  runes  aright ; 
The  tongues  of  many  countries,  and  soft  speech  for  men's  delight ; 
The  dealing  with  the  harp-strings,  and  the  winding  ways  of  song. 
So  wise  of  heart  waxed  Sigurd,  and  of  body  wondrous  strong : 
And  he  chased  the  deer  of  the  forest,  and  many  a  wood-wolf  slew, 
And  many  a  bull  of  the  mountains :  and  the  desert  dales  he  knew. 
And  the  heaths  that  the  wind  sweeps  over ;  and  seaward  would  he  fare. 
Far  out  from  the  outer  skerries,  and  alone  the  sea-wights  dare. 

On  a  day  he  sat  with  Regin  amidst  the  unfashioned  gold. 

And  the  silver  grey  from  the  furnace ;  and  Regin  spake  and  told 

Sweet  tales  of  the  days  that  have  been,  and  the  Kings  of  the  bold  and  wise  ^ 

Till  the  lad's  heart  swelled  with  longing  and  lit  his  sunbright  eyes. 

Then  Regin  looked  upon  him :  "  Thou  too  shalt  one  day  ride 
As  the  Volsung  Kings  went  faring  through  the  noble  world  and  wide. 
For  this  land  is  nought  and  narrow,  and  Kings  of  the  carles  are  these, 
And  their  earls  are  acre-biders,  and  their  hearts  are  dull  with  peace." 

But  Sigurd  knit  his  brows,  and  in  wrathful  wise  he  said : 
'111  words  of  those  thou  speakest  that  my  youth  have  cherished, 
A.nd  the  friends  that  have  made  me  merry,  and  the  land  that  is  fair  and  good," 

Then  Regin  laughed  and  answered  :  "  Nay,  well  I  see  by  thy  mood 
That  wide  wilt  thou  ride  in  the  world  like  thy  kin  of  the  earlier  days : 
And  wilt  thou  be  wroth  with  thy  master  that  he  longs  for  thy  winning  the 
praise? 


78  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  now  if  the  sooth  thou  sayest,  that  these  King-folk  cherish  thee  well^ 
Then  let  them  give  thee  a  gift  whereof  the  world  shall  tell : 
Yea  hearken  to  this  my  counsel,  and  crave  for  a  battle-steed." 

Yet  wroth  was  the  lad  and  answered  :  "  I  have  many  a  horse  to  my  need, 
And  all  that  the  heart  desireth,  and  what  wouldst  thou  wish  me  more  ?  " 

Then  Regin  answered  and  said :  "  Thy  kin  of  the  Kings  of  yore 
Were  the  noblest  men  of  men-folk ;  and  their  hearts  would  never  rest 
Whatso  of  good  they  had  gotten,  if  their  hands  held  not  the  best. 
Now  do  thou  after  my  counsel,  and  crave  of  thy  fosterers  here 
That  thou  choose  of  the  horses  of  Gripir  whichso  thine  heart  holds  dear." 

He  spake  and  his  harp  was  with  him,  and  he  smote  the  strings  full  sweet. 
And  sang  of  the  host  of  the  Valkyrs,  how  they  ride  the  battle  to  meet, 
And  the  dew  from  the  dear  manes  drippeth  as  they  ride  in  the  first  of  the  sun, 
And  the  tree-boughs  open  to  meet  it  when  the  wind  of  the  dawning  is  done : 
And  the  deep  dales  drink  its  sweetness  and  spring  into  blossoming  grass, 
And  the  earth  groweth  fruitful  of  men,  and  bringeth  their  glory  to  pass. 

Then  the  wrath  ran  off  from  Sigurd,  and  he  left  the  smithying  stead 
While  the  song  yet  rang  in  the  doorway :  and  that  eve  to  the  Kings  he  said : 
"  Will  ye  do  so  much  for  mine  asking  as  to  give  me  a  horse  to  my  will  ? 
For  belike  the  days  shall  come,  that  shall  all  my  heart  fulfill. 
And  teach  me  the  deeds  of  a  king." 

Then  answered  King  Elf  and  spake : 
"The  stalls  of  the  Kings  are  before  thee  to  set  aside  or  to  take, 
And  nought  we  begrudge  thee  the  best." 

Yet  answered  Sigurd  again ; 
For  his  heart  of  the  mountains  aloft  and  the  windy  drift  was  fain : 
"  Fair  seats  for  the  knees  of  Kings !  but  now  do  I  ask  for  a  gift 
Such  as  all  the  world  shall  be  praising,  the  best  of  the  strong  and  the  swift 
Ye  shall  give  me  a  token  for  Gripir,  and  bid  him  to  let  me  choose 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  79 

From  out  of  the  noble  stud-beasts  that  run  in  his  meadow  loose. 
But  if  overmuch  I  have  asked  you,  forget  this  prayer  of  mine, 
And  deem  the  word  unspoken,  and  get  ye  to  the  wine." 

Then  smiled  King  Elf,  and  answered  :  "A  long  way  wilt  thou  ride, 

To  where  unpeace  and  troubles  and  the  griefs  of  the  soul  abide, 

Yea  unto  the  death  at  the  last :  yet  surely  shalt  thou  win 

The  praise  of  many  a  people :  so  have  thy  way  herein. 

Forsooth  no  more  may  v/e  hold  thee  than  the  hazel  copse  may  hold 

The  sun  of  the  early  dawning,  that  turneth  it  all  unto  gold." 

Then  sweetly  Sigurd  thanked  them ;  and  through  the  night  he  lay 

Mid  dreams  of  many  a  matter  till  the  dawn  was  on  the  way; 

Then  he  shook  the  sleep  from  off  him,  and  that  dwelling  of  Kings  he  left 

And  wended  his  ways  unto  Gripir.     On  a  crag  from  the  mountain  reft 

Was  the  house  of  the  old  King  builded  j  and  a  mighty  house  it  was, 

Though  few  were  the  sons  of  men  that  over  its  threshold  would  pass : 

But  the  wild  ernes  cried  about  it,  and  the  vultures  toward  it  flew. 

And  the  winds  from  the  heart  of  the  mountains  searched  every  chamber 

through. 
And  about  were  meads  wide-spreading ;  and  many  a  beast  thereon, 
Vea  some  that  are  men-folk's  terror,  their  sport  and  pasture  won. 

So  into  the  hall  went  Sigurd ;  and  amidst  was  Gripir  set 
In  a  chair  of  the  sea-beast's  tooth ;  and  his  sweeping  beard  nigh  met 
The  floor  that  was  green  as  the  ocean,  and  his  gown  was  of  mountain-gold 
And  the  kingly  staff  in  his  hand  was  knobbed  with  the  crystal  cold. 

Now  the  first  of  the  twain  spake  Gripir :  "  Hail  King  with  the  eyen  bright  i 
Nought  needest  thou  show  the  token,  for  I  know  of  thy  life  and  thy  light. 
And  no  need  to  tell  of  thy  message ;  it  was  wafted  here  on  the  wind. 
That  thou  wouldst  be  coming  to-day  a  horse  in  my  meadow  to  find : 
And  strong  must  he  be  for  the  bearing  of  those  deeds  of  thine  that  shall  be. 


8o  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Now  choose  thou  of  all  the  way-wearers  that  are  running  loose  in  my  lea, 
And  be  glad  as  thine  heart  will  have  thee  and  the  fate  that  leadeth  thee  on^ 
And  I  bid  thee  again  come  hither  when  the  sword  of  worth  is  won, 
And  thy  loins  are  girt  for  thy  going  on  the  road  that  before  thee  lies; 
For  a  glimmering  over  its  darkness  is  come  before  mine  eyes." 

Then  again  gat  Sigurd  outward,  and  adown  the  steep  he  ran 

And  unto  the  horse-fed  meadow :  but  lo,  a  grey-clad  man, 

One-eyed  and  seeming-ancient,  there  met  him  by  the  way : 

And  he  spake  :  "  Thou  hastest,  Sigurd  ;  yet  tarry  till  I  say 

A  word  that  shall  well  bestead  thee :  for  I  know  of  these  mountains  well 

And  all  the  lea  of  Gripir,  and  the  beasts  that  thereon  dwell." 

"Wouldst  thou  have  red  gold  for  thy  tidings?  art  thou  Gripir's  horse-herd 
Nay  sure,  for  thy  face  is  shining  like  the  battle-eager  men  [then  ? 

My  master  Regin  tells  of :  and  I  love  thy  cloud-grey  gown 
And  thy  visage  gleams  above  it  like  a  thing  my  dreams  have  known. 

"  Nay  whiles  have  I  heeded  the  horse-kind,"  then  spake  that  elder  of  days, 
"  And  sooth  do  the  sages  say,  when  the  beasts  of  my  breeding  they  praise. 
There  is  one  thereof  in  the  meadow,  and,  wouldst  thou  cull  him  out, 
Thou  shalt  follow  an  elder's  counsel,  who  hath  brought  strange  things  about, 
Who  hath  known  thy  father  aforetime,  and  other  kings  of  thy  kin." 

So  Sigurd  said,  "  I  am  ready ;  and  what  is  the  deed  to  win  ?  " 

He  said :  "  We  shall  drive  the  horses  adown  to  the  water-side, 

That  Cometh  forth  from  the  mountains,  and  note  what  next  shall  betide.' 

Then  the  twain  sped  on  together,  and  they  drave  the  horses  on 
Till  they  came  to  a  rushing  river  a  water  wide  and  wan  ; 
And  the  white  mews  hovered  o'er  it ;  but  none  might  hear  their  cry 
For  the  rush  and  the  rattle  of  waters,  as  the  downlong  flood  swept  by. 


BOOK    II.     REGIN.  8i 

So  the  whole  herd  took  the  river  and  strove  the  stream  to  stem, 
And  many  a  brave  steed  was  there  ;  but  the  flood  o'ermastered  them  : 
And  some,  it  swept  them  down-ward,  and  some  won  back  to  bank, 
Some,  caught  by  the  net  of  the  eddies,  in  the  swirling  hubbub  sank ; 
But  one  of  all  swam  over,  and  they  saw  his  mane  of  grey 
Toss  over  the  flowery  meadows,  a  bright  thing  far  away : 
Wide  then  he  wheeled  about  them,  then  took  the  stream  again 
And  with  the  waves'  white  horses  mingled  his  cloudy  mane. 

Then  spake  the  elder  of  days :  "  Hearken  now,  Sigurd,  and  hear ; 

Time  was  when  I  gave  thy  father  a  gift  thou  shalt  yet  deem  dear, 

And  this  horse  is  a  gift  of  my  giving : — heed  nought  where  thou  mayest  ride 

For  I  have  seen  thy  fathers  in  a  shining  house  abide. 

And  on  earth  they  thought  of  its  threshold,  and  the  gifts  I  had  to  give , 

Nor  prayed  for  a  little  longer,  and  a  little  longer  to  live." 

Then  forth  he  strode  to  the  mountains,  and  fain  was  Sigurd  now 

To  ask  him  many  a  matter :  but  dim  did  his  bright  shape  grow. 

As  a  man  from  the  litten  doorway  fades  into  the  dusk  of  night ; 

And  the  sun  in  the  high-noon  shone,  and  the  world  was  exceeding  bright. 

So  Sigurd  turned  to  the  river  and  stood  by  the  wave-wet  strand. 
And  the  grey  horse  swims  to  his  feet  and  lightly  leaps  a-land. 
And  the  youngling  looks  upon  him,  and  deems  none  beside  him  good. 
And  indeed,  as  tells  the  story,  he  was  come  of  Sleipnir's  blood,  -.- 
The  tireless  horse  of  Odin :  cloud-grey  he  was  of  hue, 
And  it  seemed  as  Sigurd  backed  him  that  Sigmund's  son  he  knew, 
So  glad  he  went  beneath  him.     Then  the  youngling's  song  arose 
As  he  brushed  through  the  noon-tide  blossoms  of  Gripir's  mighty  close, 
Then  he  singeth  the  song  of  Greyfell,  the  horse  that  Odin  gave, 
Who  swam  through  the  sweeping  river,  and  back  through  the  toppling  wa\  e 
6 


^ 
^ 
^ 


82  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 


Regin  telleth  Sigurd  of  his  kindred,  and  of  the  Gold  that  was 
accursed  from  ancient  days. 

Now  yet  the  days  pass  over,  and  more  than  words  may  tell 

Grows  Sigurd  strong  and  lovely,  and  all  children  love  him  well. 

But  oft  he  looks  on  the  mountains  and  many  a  time  is  fain 

To  know  of  what  lies  beyond  them,  and  learn  of  the  wide  world's  gain. 

And  he  saith :  "  I  dwell  in  a  land  that  is  ruled  by  none  of  my  blood ; 

And  my  mother's  sons  are  waxing,  and  fair  kings  shall  they  be  and  good  j 

And  their  servant  or  their  betrayer — not  one  of  these  will  I  be. 

Yet  needs  must  I  wait  for  a  little  till  Odin  calls  for  me." 

Now  again  it  happed  on  a  day  that  he  sat  in  Regin's  hall 

And  hearkened  many  tidings  of  what  had  chanced  to  fall. 

And  of  kings  that  sought  their  kingdoms  o'er  many  a  waste  and  wild. 

And  at  last  saith  the  crafty  master : 

"  Thou  art  King  Sigmund's  child  : 
Wilt  thou  wait  till  these  kings  of  the  carles  shall  die  in  a  little  land, 
Or  wilt  thou  serve  their  sons  and  carry  the  cup  to  their  hand ; 
Or  abide  in  vain  for  the  day  that  never  shall  come  about,  [shout  ? " 

When  their  banners  shall  dance  in  the  wind  and  shake  to  the  war-gods' 

Then  Sigurd  answered  and  said :  "  Nought  such  do  I  look  to  be. 

But  thou,  a  deedless  man,  too  much  thou  eggest  me  : 

And  these  folk  are  good  and  trusty,  and  the  land  is  lovely  and  sweet, 

And  in  rest  and  in  peace  it  lieth  as  the  floor  of  Odin's  feet : 

Yet  I  know  that  the  world  is  wide,  and  filled  with  deeds  unwrought ; 

And  for  e'en  such  work  was  I  fashioned,  lest  the  songcraft  come  to  nought, 

When  the  harps  of  God-home  tinkle,  and  the  Gods  are  at  stretch  to  hearken : 

Lest  the  hosts  of  the  Gods  be  scanty  when  their  day  hath  begun  to  darken, 

When  the  bonds  of  the  Wolf  wax  thin,  and  Loki  fretteth  his  chain. 

And  sure  for  the  house  of  my  fathers  full  oft  my  heart  is  fain, 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  83 

And  meseemeth  I  hear  them  talking  of  the  day  when  I  shall  come, 
And  of  all  the  burden  of  deeds,  that  my  hand  shall  bear  them  home. 
And  so  when  the  deed  is  ready,  nowise  the  man  shall  lack : 
But  the  wary  foot  is  the  surest,  and  the  hasty  oft  turns  back." 

Then  answered  Regin  the  guileful :  "  The  deed  is  ready  to  hand, 
Yet  holding  my  peace  is  the  best,  for  well  thou  lovest  the  land ; 
And  thou  lovest  thy  life  moreover,  and  the  peace  of  thy  youthful  days, 
And  why  should  the  full-fed  feaster  his  hand  to  the  rye-bread  raise  ? 
Yet  they  say  that  Sigmund  begat  thee  and  he  looked  to  fashion  a  man. 
Fear  nought ;  he  lieth  quiet  in  his  mound  by  the  sea-waves  wan." 

So  shone  the  eyes  of  Sigurd,  that  the  shield  against  him  hung 
Cast  back  their  light  as  the  sunbeams  ;  but  his  voice  to  the  roof-tree  rung . 
"  Tell  me,  thou  Master  of  Masters,  what  deed  is  the  deed  I  shall  do  ? 
Nor  mock  thou  the  son  of  Sigmund  lest  the  day  of  his  birth  thou  rue." 

Then  answered  the  Master  of  Sleight :  "  The  deed  is  the  righting  of  wrong, 
And  the  quelling  a  bale  and  a  sorrow  that  the  world  hath  endured  o'erlong, 
And  the  winning  a  treasure  untold,  that  shall  make  thee  more  than  the 
Thereof  is  the  Helm  of  Aweing,  the  wonder  of  earthly  things,  [kings  ; 

And  thereof  is  its  very  fellow,  the  War-coat  all  of  gold, 
That  has  not  its  like  in  the  heavens,  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told." 

Then  answered  Sigurd  the  Volsung  :  "  How  long  hereof  has  thou  known  i 
And  what  unto  thee  is  this  treasure,  that  thou  seemest  to  give  as  thine  own.? ' 

"  Alas  !  "  quoth  the  smithying  master,  "  it  is  mine,  yet  none  of  mine 

Since  my  heart  herein  avails  not,  and  my  hand  is  frail  and  fine — 

It  is  long  since  I  first  came  hither  to  seek  a  man  for  my  need  ; 

For  I  saw  by  a  glimmering  light  that  hence  would  spring  the  deed. 

And  many  a  deed  of  the  world :  but  the  generations  passed. 

And  the  first  of  the  days  was  as  near  to  the  end  that  I  sought  as  the  last .; 


84  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Till  I  looked  on  thine  eyes  in  the  cradle  :  and  now  I  deem  through  thee, 
That  the  end  of  my  days  of  waiting,  and  the  end  of  my  woes  shall  be.'* 

Then  Sigurd  awhile  was  silent ;  but  at  last  he  answered  and  said : 

"  Thou  shalt  have  thy  will  and  the  treasure,  and  shalt  take  the  curse  on 

thine  head 
If  a  curse  the  gold  enwrappeth  :  but  the  deed  will  I  surely  do, 
For  today  the  dreams  of  my  childhood  have  bloomed  in  my  heart  anew  • 
And  I  long  to  look  on  the  world  and  the  glory  of  the  earth 
And  to  deal  in  the  dealings  of  men,  and  garner  the  harvest  of  worth. 
But  tell  me,  thou  Master  of  Masters,  where  lieth  this  measureless  wealth  ; 
Is  it  guarded  by  swords  of  the  earl-folk,  or  kept  by  cunning  and  stealth  > 
Is  it  over  the  main  sea's  darkness,  or  beyond  the  mountain  wall  ? 
Or  e'en  in  these  peaceful  acres  anigh  to  the  hands  of  all  ? " 

Then  Regin  answered  sweetly  :  "  Hereof  must  a  tale  be  told  : 
Bide  sitting,  thou  son  of  Sigmund,  on  the  heap  of  unwrought  gold, 
And  hearken  of  wondrous  matters,  and  of  things  unheard,  unsaid, 
And  deeds  of  my  beholding  ere  the  first  of  Kings  was  made. 

"  And  first  ye  shall  know  of  a  sooth,  that  I  never  was  born  of  the  race 
Which  the  masters  of  God-home  have  made  to  cover  the  fair  earth's  face  ; 
But  I  come  of  the  Dwarfs  departed  ;  and  fair  was  the  earth  whileome 
Ere  the  short-lived  thralls  of  the  Gods  amidst  its  dales  were  come  :  — 
And  how  were  we  worse  than  the  Gods,  though  maybe  we  lived  not  as  long  ? 
Yet  no  weight  of  memory  maimed  us  ;  nor  aught  we  knew  of  wrong. 
What  felt  our  souls  of  shaming,  what  knew  our  hearts  of  love  ? 
We  did  and  undid  at  pleasure,  and  repented  nought  thereof. 
—  Yea  we  were  exceeding  mighty  — bear  with  me  yet,  my  son  ; 
For  whiles  can  I  scarcely  think  it  that  our  days  are  wholly  done. 
And  trust  not  thy  life  in  my  hands  in  the  day  when  most  I  seem 
Like  the  Dwarfs  that  are  long  departed,  and  most  of  my  kindred  I  dream. 

"  So  as  we  dwelt  came  tidings  that  the  Gods  amongst  us  were, 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  85 

And  the  people  come  from  Asgard :  then  rose  up  hope  and  fear, 
And  strange  shapes  of  things  went  flitting  betwixt  the  night  and  the  eve, 
And  our  sons  waxed  wild  and  wrathful,  and  our  daughters  learned  to  grieve. 
Then  we  fell  to  the  working  of  metal,  and  the  deeps  of  the  earth  would  know, 
And  we  dealt  with  venom  and  leechcraft,  and  we  fashioned  spear  and  bow, 
And  we  set  the  ribs  to  the  oak-keel,  and  looked  on  the  landless  sea ; 
And  the  world  began  to  be  such-like  as  the  Gods  would  have  it  to  be. 
In  the  womb  of  the  woeful  Earth  had  they  quickened  the  grief  and  the  gold. 

"  It  was  Reidmar  the  Ancient  begat  me  ;  and  now  was  he  waxen  old. 
And  a  covetous  man  and  a  king ;  and  he  bade,  and  I  built  him  a  hall. 
And  a  golden  glorious  house  ;  and  thereto  his  sons  did  he  call. 
And  he  bade  them  be  evil  and  wise,  that  his  will  through  them  might  h» 

wrought. 
Then  he  gave  unto  Fafnir  my  brother  the  soul  that  feareth  nought, 
And  the  brow  of  the  hardened  iron,  and  the  hand  that  may  never  fail. 
And  the  greedy  heart  of  a  king,  and  the  ear  that  hears  no  wail. 

"  But  next  unto  Otter  my  brother  he  gave  the  snare  and  the  net 

And  the  longing  to  wend  through  the  wild-wood,  and  wade  the  highways  wet ; 

And  the  foot  that  never  resteth,  while  aught  be  left  alive 

That  hath  cunning  to  match  man's  cunning  or  might  with  his  might  to  strive. 

"And  to  me,  the  least  and  the  youngest,  what  gift  for  the  slaying  of  ease  ? 
Save  the  grief  that  remembers  the  past,  and  the  fear  that  the  future  sees  ; 
And  the  hammer  and  fashioning-iron,  and  the  living  coal  of  fire  j 
And  the  craft  that  createth  a  semblance,  and  fails  of  the  heart's  desire ; 
And  the  toil  that  each  dawning  quickens  and  the  task  that  is  never  done, 
And  the  heart  that  longeth  ever,  nor  will  look  to  the  deed  that  is  won. 

"  Thus  gave  my  father  the  gifts  that  might  never  be  taken  again ; 
Far  worse  were  we  now  than  the  Gods,  and  but  little  better  than  men. 
But  yet  of  our  ancient  might  one  thing  had  we  left  us  still : 
We  had  craft  to  change  our  semblance,  and  could  shift  us  at  our  will 


86  THE   STORY    OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Into  bodies  of  the  beast-kind,  or  fowl,  or  fishes  cold ; 

For  belike  no  fix^d  semblance  we  had  in  the  days  of  old, 

Till  the  Gods  were  waxen  busy,  and  all  things  their  form  must  take 

That  knew  of  good  and  evil,  and  longed  to  gather  and  make. 

"  So  dwelt  we,  brethren  and  father ;  and  Fafnir  my  brother  fared 

As  the  scourge  and  compeller  of  all  things,  and  left  no  wrong  undared  j 

But  for  me,  I  toiled  and  I  toiled ;  and  fair  grew  my  father's  house  ; 

But  writhen  and  foul  were  the  hands  that  had  made  it  glorious ; 

And  the  love  of  women  left  me,  and  the  fame  of  sword  and  shield : 

And  the  sun  and  the  winds  of  heaven,  and  the  fowl  and  the  grass  of  the  field 

Were  grown  as  the  tools  of  my  smithy ;  and  all  the  world  I  knew, 

And  the  glories  that  lie  beyond  it,  and  whitherward  all  things  drew ; 

And  myself  a  little  fragment  amidst  it  all  I  saw. 

Grim,  cold-heart,  and  unmighty  as  the  tempest-driven  straw. 

—  Let  be. —  For  Otter  my  brother  saw  seldom  field  or  fold. 

And  he  oftenest  used  that  custom,  whereof  e'en  now  I  told,  [sea ; 

And  would  shift  his  shape  with  the  wood-beasts  and  the  things  of  land  and 

And  he  knew  what  joy  their  hearts  had,  and  what  they  longed  to  be. 

And  their  dim-eyed  understanding,  and  his  wood-craft  waxed  so  great, 

That  he  seemed  the  king  of  the  creatures  and  their  very  mortal  fate. 

"  Now  as  the  years  won  over  three  folk  of  the  heavenly  halls 
Grew  aweary  of  sleepless  sloth,  and  the  day  that  nought  befalls ; 
And  they  fain  would  look  on  the  earth,  and  their  latest  handiwork, 
And  turn  the  fine  gold  over,  lest  a  flaw  therein  should  lurk. 
And  the  three  were  the  heart-wise  Odin,  the  Father  of  the  Slain, 
And  Loki,  the  World's  Begrudger,  who  maketh  all  labour  vain, 
And  Haenir,  the  Utter-Blameless,  who  wrought  the  hope  of  man, 
And  his  heart  and  inmost  yearnings,  when  first  the  work  began ; — 
— The  God  that  was  aforetime,  and  hereafter  yet  shall  be 
When  the  new  light  yet  undreamed  of  shall  shine  o'er  earth  and  sea. 

"  Thus  about  the  world  they  wended  and  deemed  it  fair  and  good, 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  87 

And  they  loved  their  life-days  dearly :  so  came  they  to  the  wood, 

And  the  lea  without  a  shepherd  and  the  dwellings  of  the  deer, 

And  unto  a  mighty  water  that  ran  from  a  fathomless  mere. 

Now  that  flood  my  brother  Otter  had  haunted  many  a  day 

For  its  plenteous  fruit  of  fishes ;  and  there  on  the  bank  he  lay 

As  the  Gods  came  wandering  thither ;  and  he  slept,  and  in  his  dreams 

He  saw  the  downlong  river,  and  its  fishy-peopled  streams. 

And  the  swift  smooth  heads  of  its  forces,  and  its  swirling  wells  and  deep, 

Where  hang  the  poisbd  fishes,  and  their  watch  in  the  rock-halls  keep. 

And  so,  as  he  thought  of  it  all,  and  its  deeds  and  its  wanderings, 

Whereby  it  ran  to  the  sea  down  the  road  of  scaly  things. 

His  body  was  changed  with  his  thought,  as  yet  was  the  wont  of  our  kind. 

And  he  grew  but  an  Otter  indeed ;  and  his  eyes  were  sleeping  and  blind 

The  while  he  devoured  the  prey,  a  golden  red-flecked  trout. 

Then  passed  by  Odin  and  Haenir,  nor  cumbered  their  souls  with  doubt ; 

But  Loki  lingered  a  little,  and  guile  in  his  heart  arose. 

And  he  saw  through  the  shape  of  the  Otter,  and  beheld  a  chief  of  his  foes, 

A  king  of  the  free  and  the  careless :  so  he  called  up  his  baleful  might. 

And  gathered  his  godhead  together,  and  tore  a  shard  outright 

From  the  rock-wall  of  the  river,  and  across  its  green  wells  cast  j 

And  roaring  over  the  waters  that  bolt  of  evil  passed, 

And  smote  my  brother  Otter  that  his  heart's  life  fled  away. 

And  bore  his  man's  shape  with  it,  and  beast-like  there  he  lay. 

Stark  dead  on  the  sun-lit  blossoms :  but  the  Evil  God  rejoiced. 

And  because  of  the  sound  of  his  singing  the  wild  grew  many-voiced. 

"Then  the  three  Gods  waded  the  river,  and  no  word  Haenir  spake, 
For  his  thoughts  were  set  on  God-home,  and  the  day  that  is  ever  awake* 
But  Odin  laughed  in  his  wrath,  and  murmured :  *  Ah,  how  long, 
Till  the  iron  shall  ring  on  the  anvil  for  the  shackles  of  thy  wrong  I  * 

"  Then  Loki  takes  up  the  quarry,  and  is  e'en  as  a  man  again ; 

And  the  three  wend  on  through  the  wild-wood  till  they  come  to  a  grassy  plain 

Beneath  the  untrodden  mountains ;  and  lo  a  noble  house. 


88  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  a  hall  with  great  craft  fashioned,  and  made  full  glorious ; 

But  night  on  the  earth  was  falling ;  so  scantly  might  they  see 

The  wealth  of  its  smooth-wrought  stonework  and  its  world  of  imagery ' 

Then  Loki  bade  turn  thither  since  day  was  at  an  end, 

And  into  that  noble  dwelling  the  lords  of  God-home  wend ; 

And  the  porch  was  fair  and  mighty,  and  so  smooth-wrought  was  its  gold, 

That  the  mirrored  stars  of  heaven  therein  might  ye  behold : 

But  the  hall,  what  words  shall  tell  it,  how  fair  it  rose  aloft. 

And  the  marvels  of  its  windows,  and  its  golden  hangings  soft. 

And  the  forest  of  its  pillars !  and  each  like  the  wave's  heart  shone 

And  the  mirrored  boughs  of  the  garden  were  dancing  fair  thereon. 

—  Long  years  agone  was  it  builded,  and  where  are  its  wonders  now  ? 

"  Now  the  men  of  God-home  marvelled,  and  gazed  through  the  golden  glow, 

And  a  man  like  a  covetous  king  amidst  of  the  hall  they  saw ; 

And  his  chair  was  the  tooth  of  the  whale,  wrought  smooth  with  never  a  flaw ; 

And  his  gown  was  the  sea-born  purple,  and  he  bore  a  crown  on  his  head, 

But  never  a  sword  was  before  him :  kind-seeming  words  he  said. 

And  bade  rest  to  the  weary  feet  that  had  worn  the  wild  so  long. 

So  they  sat,  and  were  men  by  seeming ;  and  there  rose  up  music  and  song, 

And  they  ate  and  drank  and  were  merry :  but  amidst  the  glee  of  the  cup 

They  felt  themselves  tangled  and  caught,  as  when  the  net  cometh  up 

Before  the  folk  of  the  firth,  and  the  main  sea  lieth  far  off ; 

And  the  laughter  of  lips  they  hearkened,  and  that  hall-abider's  scoff. 

As  his  face  and  his  mocking  eyes  anigh  to  their  faces  drew, 

And  their  godhead  was  caught  in  the  net,  and  no  shift  of  creation  they  knew 

To  escape  from  their  man-like  bodies ;  so  great  that  day  was  the  Earth. 

*'Then  spake  the  hall-abider:  *  Where  then  is  thy  guileful  mirth, 

And  thy  hall-glee  gone,  O  Loki  ?     Come,  Haenir,  fashion  now 

My  heart  for  love  and  for  hope,  that  the  fear  in  my  body  may  grow, 

That  I  may  grieve  and  be  sorry,  that  the  ruth  may  arise  in  me,  [be. 

As  thou  dealtst  with  the  first  of  men-folk,  when  a  master-smith  thou  wouldst 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  89 

And  thou,  Allf ather  Odin,  hast  thou  come  on  a  bastard  brood  ? 

Or  hadst  thou  belike  a  brother,  thy  twin  for  evil  and  good, 

That  waked  amidst  thy  slumber,  and  slumbered  midst  thy  work  ? 

Nay,  Wise-one,  art  thou  silent  as  a  child  amidst  the  mirk  ? 

Ah,  I  know  ye  are  called  the  Gods,  and  are  mighty  men  at  home, 

But  now  with  a  guilt  on  your  heads  to  no  feeble  folk  are  ye  come. 

To  a  folk  that  need  you  nothing :  time  was  when  we  knew  you  not : 

Yet  e'en  then  fresh  was  the  winter,  and  the  summer  sun  was  hot, 

And  the  wood-meats  stayed  our  hunger,  and  the  water  quenched  our  thirst, 

Ere  the  good  and  the  evil  wedded  and  begat  the  best  and  the  worst. 

And  how  if  today  I  undo  it,  that  work  of  your  fashioning. 

If  the  web  of  the  world  run  backward,  and  the  high  heavens  lack  a  King  ? 

—  Woe's  me  !  for  your  ancient  mastery  shall  help  you  at  your  need : 
If  ye  fill  up  the  gulf  of  my  longing  and  my  empty  heart  of  greed, 
And  slake  the  flame  ye  have  quickened,  then  may  ye  go  your  ways 
And  get  ye  back  to  your  kingship  and  the  driving  on  of  the  days 

To  the  day  of  the  gathered  war-hosts,  and  the  tide  of  your  Fateful  Gloom. 
Now  nought  may  ye  gainsay  it  that  my  mouth  must  speak  the  doom, 
For  ye  wot  well  I  am  Reidmar,  and  that  there  ye  lie  red-hand 
From  the  slaughtering  of  my  offspring,  and  the  spoiling  of  my  land ; 
For  his  death  of  my  wold  hath  bereft  me  and  every  highway  wet. 

—  Nay,  Loki,  naught  avails  it,  well-fashioned  is  the  net. 

Come  forth,  my  son,  my  war-god,  and  show  the  Gods  their  work. 
And  thou  who  mightst  learn  e'en  Loki,  if  need  were  to  lie  or  lurk ! ' 

"  And  there  was  I,  I  Regin,  the  smithier  of  the  snare. 

And  high  up  Fafnir  towered  with  the  brow  that  knew  no  fear. 

With  the  wrathful  and  pitiless  heart  that  was  born  of  my  father's  will, 

And  the  greed  that  the  Gods  had  fashioned  the  fate  of  the  earth  to  fulfill. 

"Then  spake  the  Father  of  Men:  'We  have  wrought  thee  wrong  indeed, 
And,  wouldst  thou  amend  it  with  wrong,  thine  errand  must  we  speed  ; 
For  I  know  of  thine  heart's  desire,  and  the  gold  thou  shalt  nowise  lack, 


90  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

—  Nor  all  the  works  of  the  gold.     But  best  were  thy  word  drawn  back, 
If  indeed  the  doom  of  the  Norns  be  not  utterly  now  gone  forth.' 

"  Then  Reidmar  laughed  and  answered :  "  So  much  is  thy  word  of  worth  ! 

And  they  call  thee  Odin  for  this,  and  stretch  forth  hands  in  vain, 

And  pray  for  the  gifts  of  a  God  who  giveth  and  taketh  again ! 

It  was  better  in  times  past  over,  when  we  prayed  for  nought  at  all, 

When  no  love  taught  us  beseeching,  and  we  had  no  troth  to  recall. 

Ye  have  changed  the  world,  and  it  bindeth  with  the  right  and  the  wrong 

ye  have  made. 
Nor  may  ye  be  Gods  henceforward  save  the  rightful  ransom  be  paid. 
But  perchance  ye  are  weary  of  kingship,  and  will  deal  no  more  with  the  earth? 
Then  curse  the  world,  and  depart,  and  sit  in  your  changeless  mirth ; 
And  there  shall  be  no  more  kings,  and  battle  and  murder  shall  fail, 
And  the  world  shall  laugh  and  long  not,  nor  weep,  nor  fashion  the  tale.' 

"  So  spake  Reidmar  the  Wise ;  but  the  wrath  burned  through  his  word, 
And  wasted  his  heart  of  wisdom  ;  and  there  was  Fafnir  the  Lord, 
And  there  was  Regin  the  Wright,  and  they  raged  at  their  father's  back : 
And  all  these  cried  out  together  with  the  voice  of  the  sea-storm's  wrack ; 

*  O  hearken,  Gods  of  the  Goths  !  ye  shall  die,  and  we  shall  be  Gods, 
And  rule  your  men  belovbd  with  bitter-heavy  rods. 

And  make  them  beasts  beneath  us,  save  today  ye  do  our  will, 

And  pay  us  the  ransom  of  blood,  and  our  hearts  with  the  gold  fulfill.' 

"  But  Odin  spake  in  answer,  and  his  voice  was  awful  and  cold  : 

*  Give  righteous  doom,  O  Reidmar !  say  what  ye  will  of  the  Gold  ! ' 

"  Then  Reidmar  laughed  in  his  heart,  and  his  wrath  and  his  wisdom  fled. 
And  nought  but  his  greed  abided  :  and  he  spake  from  his  throne  and  said  . 

"  *  Now  hearken  the  doom  I  shall  speak !     Ye  stranger-folk  shall  be  free 
When  ye  give  me  the  Flame  of  the  Waters,  the  gathered  Gold  of  the  Sea, 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  qi 

That  Andvari  hideth  rejoicing  in  the  wan  realm  pale  as  the  grave ; 
And  the  Master  of  Sleight  shall  fetch  it,  and  the  hand  that  never  gave, 
And  the  heart  that  begrudgeth  for  ever  shall  gather  and  give  and  rue. 
—  Lo  this  is  the  doom  of  the  wise,  and  no  doom  shall  be  spoken  anew.' 

"  Then  Odin  spake  :  *  It  is  well ;  the  Curser  shall  seek  for  the  curse  , 
And  the  Greedy  shall  cherish  the  evil  —  and  the  seed  of  the  Great  they 

[shall  nurse.' 
"  No  word  spake  Reidmar  the  great,  for  the  eyes  of  his  heart  were  turned 
To  the  edge  of  the  outer  desert,  so  sore  for  the  gold  he  yearned. 
But  Loki  I  loosed  from  the  toils,  and  he  goeth  his  ways  abroad ; 
And  the  heart  of  Odin  he  knoweth,  and  where  he  shall  seek  the  Hoard. 

"  There  is  a  desert  of  dread  in  the  uttermost  part  of  the  world, 

Where  over  a  wall  of  mountains  is  a  mighty  water  hurled, 

Whose  hidden  head  none  knoweth,  nor  where  it  meeteth  the  sea ; 

And  that  force  is  the  Force  of  Andvari,  and  an  Elf  of  the  Dark  is  he. 

In  the  cloud  and  the  desert  he  dwelleth  amid  that  land  alone  ] 

And  his  work  is  the  storing  of  treasure  within  his  house  of  stone. 

Time  was  when  he  knew  of  wisdom,  and  had  many  a  tale  to  tell 

Of  the  days  before  the  Dwarf-age,  and  of  what  in  that  world  befell : 

And  he  knew  of  the  stars  and  the  sun,  and  the  worlds  that  come  and  go 

On  the  nether  rim  of  heaven,  and  whence  the  wind  doth  blow, 

And  how  the  sea  hangs  balanced  betwixt  the  curving  lands, 

And  how  all  drew  together  for  the  first  Gods'  fashioning  hands. 

But  now  is  all  gone  from  him,  save  the  craft  of  gathering  gold, 

And  he  heedeth  nought  of  the  summer,  nor  knoweth  the  winter  cold, 

Nor  looks  to  the  sun  nor  the  snowfall,  nor  ever  dreams  of  the  sea 

Nor  hath  heard  of  the  making  of  men-folk,  nor  of  where  the  high  Gods  be 

But  ever  he  gripeth  and  gathereth,  and  he  toileth  hour  by  hour 

Nor  knoweth  the  noon  from  the  midnight  as  he  looks  on  his  stony  bower, 

And  saith :  *  It  is  short,  it  is  narrow  for  all  I  shall  gather  and  get ; 

For  the  world  is  but  newly  fashioned,  and  long  shall  its  years  be  yet/ 


92  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

"  There  Loki  fareth,  and  seeth  in  a  land  of  nothing  good, 

Far  off  o'er  the  empty  desert,  the  reek  of  the  falling  flood 

Go  up  to  the  floor  of  heaven,  and  thither  turn  his  feet 

As  he  weaveth  the  unseen  meshes  and  the  snare  of  strong  deceit ; 

So  he  Cometh  his  ways  to  the  water,  where  the  glittering  foam-bow  glowsj 

And  the  huge  flood  leaps  the  rock-wall  and  a  green  arch  over  it  throws. 

There  under  the  roof  of  water  he  treads  the  quivering  floor, 

And  the  hush  of  the  desert  is  felt  amid  the  water's  roar, 

And  the  bleak  sun  lighteth  the  wave-vault,  and  tells  of  the  fruitless  plain, 

And  the  showers  that  nourish  nothing,  and  the  summer  come  in  vain. 

"  There  did  the  great  Guile-master  his  toils  and  his  tangles  set, 

And  as  wide  as  was  the  water,  so  wide  was  woven  the  net ; 

And  as  dim  as  the  Elf's  remembrance  did  the  meshes  of  it  show; 

And  he  had  no  thought  of  sorrow,  nor  spared  to  come  and  go 

On  his  errands  of  griping  and  getting  till  he  felt  himself  tangled  and  caught : 

Then  back  to  his  blinded  soul  was  his  ancient  wisdom  brought, 

And  he  saw  his  fall  and  his  ruin,  as  a  man  by  the  lightning's  flame 

Sees  the  garth  all  flooded  by  foemen ;  and  again  he  remembered  his  name ; 

And  e'en  as  a  book  well  written  the  tale  of  the  Gods  he  knew, 

And  the  tale  of  the  making  of  men,  and  much  of  the  deeds  they  should  do 

"  But  Loki  took  his  man-shape,  and  laughed  aloud  and  cried : 
'What  fish  of  the  ends  of  the  earth  is  so  strong  and  so  feeble-eyed. 
That  he  draweth  the  pouch  of  my  net  on  his  road  to  the  dwelling  of  Hell  ? 
What  Elf  that  hath  heard  the  gold  growing,  but  hath  heard  not  the  light 

winds  tell 
That  the  Gods  with  the  world  have  been  dealing  and  have  fashioned  men 

for  the  earth  ? 
Where  is  he  that  hath  ridden  the  cloud-horse  and  measured  the  ocean's  girth, 
But  seen  nought  of  the  building  of  God-home  nor  the  forging  of  the  sword : 
Where  then  is  the  maker  of  nothing,  the  earless  and  eyeless  lord  ? 
In  the  pouch  of  my  net  he  lieth,  with  his  head  on  the  threshold  of  Hell  I 


BOOK    II.     REGIN.  93 

'*Then  the  Elf  lamented,  and  said  :  'Thou  knowst  of  my  name  full  well : 
Andvari  begotten  of  Oinn,  whom  the  Dwarf-kind  called  the  Wise. 
By  the  worst  of  the  Gods  is  taken,  the  forge  and  the  father  of  lies.' 

"  Said  Loki:  'How  of  the  Elf-kind,  do  they  love  their  latter  life, 
When  their  weal  is  all  departed,  and  they  lie  alow  in  the  strife  ? ' 

"  Then  Andvari  groaned  and  answered  :  '  I  know  what  thou  wouldst  have, 
The  wealth  mine  own  hands  gathered,  the  gold  that  no  man  gave.' 

"  *  Come  forth,'  said  Loki,  '  and  give  it,  and  dwell  in  peace  henceforth  — 
Or  die  in  the  toils  if  thou  listest,  if  thy  life  be  nothing  worth.' 

*'  Full  sore  the  Elf  lamented,  but  he  came  before  the  God 
And  the  twain  went  into  the  rock-house  and  on  fine  gold  they  trod, 
And  the  walls  shone  bright,  and  brighter  than  the  sun  of  the  upper  air. 
How  great  was  that  treasure  of  treasures :  and  the  Helm  of  Dread  was  there ; 
The  world  but  in  dreams  had. seen  it;  and  there  was  the  hauberk  of  gold ; 
None  other  is  in  the  heavens,  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told. 

"  Then  Loki  bade  the  Elf-king  bring  all  to  the  upper  day, 

And  he  dight  himself  with  his  Godhead  to  bear  the  treasure  away : 

So  there  in  the  dim  grey  desert  before  the  God  of  Guile, 

Great  heaps  of  the  hid-world's  treasure  the  weary  Elf  must  pile. 

And  Loki  looked  on  laughing :  but,  when  it  all  was  done. 

And  the  Elf  was  hurrying  homeward,  his  finger  gleamed  in  the  sun : 

Then  Loki  cried  :  '  Thou  art  guileful :  thou  hast  not  learned  the  tale 

Of  the  wisdom  that  Gods  have  gotten  and  their  might  of  all  avail. 

Hither  to  me  !  that  I  learn  thee  of  a  many  things  to  come ; 

Or  despite  of  all  wilt  thou  journey  to  the  dead  man's  deedless  home. 

Come  hither  again  to  thy  master,  and  give  the  ring  to  me ; 

For  meseems  it  is  Loki's  portion,  and  the  Bale  of  Men  shall  it  be.' 

"  Then  the  Elf  drew  off  the  gold-ring  and  stood  with  empty  hand 


94  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

E'en  where  the  flood  fell  over  'twixt  the  water  and  the  land, 

And  he  gazed  on  the  great  Guile-master,  and  huge  and  grim  he  grew ; 

And  his  anguish  swelled  within  him,  and  the  word  of  the  Norns  he  knew ; 

How  that  gold  was  the  seed  of  gold  to  the  wise  and  the  shapers  of  things, 

The  hoarders  of  hidden  treasure,  and  the  unseen  glory  of  rings ; 

But  the  seed  of  woe  to  the  world  and  the  foolish  wasters  of  men, 

And  grief  to  the  generations  that  die  and  spring  again : 

Then  he  cried : 

*  There  farest  thou  Loki,  and  might  I  load  thee  worse 
Than  with  what  thine  ill  heart  beareth,  then  shouldst  thou  bear  my  curse : 
But  for  men  a  curse  thou  bearest :  entangled  in  my  gold, 
Amid  my  woe  abideth  another  woe  untold. 
Two  brethren  and  a  father,  eight  kings  my  grief  shall  slay ; 
And  the  hearts  of  queens  shall  be  broken,  and  their  eyes  shall  loathe  the  day 
Lo,  how  the  wilderness  blossoms  !     Lo,  how  the  lonely  lands 
Are  waving  with  the  harvest  that  fell  from  my  gathering  hands ! ' 

"But  Loki  laughed  in  silence,  and  swift  in  Godhead  went, 
To  the  golden  hall  of  Reidmar  and  the  house  of  our  content. 
But  when  that  world  of  treasure  was  laid  within  our  hall 
Twas  as  if  the  sun  were  minded  to  live  'twixt  wall  and  wall. 
And  all  we  stood  by  and  panted.     Then  Odin  spake  and  said  : 

"*0  Kings,  O  folk  of  the  Dwarf-kind,  lo,  the  ransom  duly  paid! 
Will  ye  have  this  sun  of  the  ocean,  and  reap  the  fruitful  field, 
And  garner  up  the  harvest  that  earth  therefrom  shall  yield  ? ' 

"  So  he  spake ;  but  a  little  season  nought  answered  Reidmar  the  wise 
But  turned  his  face  from  the  Treasure,  and  peered  with  eager  eyes 
Endlong  the  hall  and  athwart  it,  as  a  man  may  chase  about 
A  ray  of  the  sun  of  the  morning  that  a  naked  sword  throws  out ; 
And  lo  from  Loki's  right-hand  came  the  flash  of  the  fruitful  ring, 
And  at  last  spake  Reidmar  scowling  : 

*  Ye  wait  for  my  yea-saying 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  95 

That  your  feet  may  go  free  on  the  earth,  and  the  fear  of  my  toils  may  be  done ; 
That  then  ye  may  say  in  your  laughter :  The  fools  of  the  time  agone  ! 
The  purblind  eyes  of  the  Dwarf-kind !  they  have  gotten  the  garnered  sheaf 
And  have  let  their  Masters  depart  with  the  Seed  of  Gold  and  of  Grief : 

0  Loki,  friend  of  Allfather,  cast  down  Andvari's  Ring, 

Or  the  world  shall  yet  turn  backward  and  the  high  heavens  lack  a  king.' 

"  Then  Loki  drew  off  the  Elf-ring  and  cast  it  down  on  the  heap, 
And  forth  as  the  gold  met  gold  did  the  light  of  its  glory  leap : 
But  he  spake  :  *  It  rejoiceth  my  heart  that  no  whit  of  all  ye  shall  lack, 
Lest  the  curse  of  the  Elf-king  cleave  not,  and  ye  'scape  the  utter  wrack.' 

"  Then  laughed  and  answered  Reidmar :  '  I  shall  have  it  while  I  live, 

And  that  shall  be  long,  meseemeth  :  for  who  is  there  may  strive 

With  my  sword,  the  war-wise  Faf nir,  and  my  shield  that  is  Regin  the  Smith  ? 

But  if  indeed  I  should  die,  then  let  men-folk  deal  therewith. 

And  ride  to  the  golden  glitter  through  evil  deeds  and  good. 

1  will  have  my  heart's  desire,  and  do  as  the  high  Gods  would.' 

"  Then  I  loosed  the  Gods  from  their  shackles,  and  great  they  grew  on  the  flooif 
And  into  the  night  they  gat  them ;  but  Odin  turned  by  the  door. 
And  we  looked  not,  little  we  heeded,  for  we  grudged  his  mastery ; 
Then  he  spake,  and  his  voice  was  waxen  as  the  voice  of  the  winter  sea: 

"  '  O  Kings,  O  folk  of  the  Dwarfs,  why  then  will  ye  covet  and  rue  ? 
I  have  seen  your  fathers'  fathers  and  the  dust  wherefrom  they  grew  j 
But  who  hath  heard  of  my  father  or  the  land  where  first  I  sprung  ? 
Who  knoweth  my  day  of  repentance,  or  the  year  when  I  was  young  ? 
Who  hath  learned  the  names  of  the  Wise-one  or  measured  out  his  will  ? 
Who  hath  gone  before  to  teach  him,  and  the  doom  of  days  fulfill  ? 
Lo,  I  look  on  the  Curse  of  the  Gold,  and  wrong  amended  by  wrong, 
And  love  by  love  confounded,  and  the  strong  abased  by  the  strong ; 
And  I  order  it  all  and  amend  it,  and  the  deeds  that  are  done  I  see, 


96  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

And  none  other  beholdeth  or  knoweth ;  and  who  shall  be  wise  unto  me  ? 
For  myself  to  myself  I  offered,  that  all  wisdom  I  might  know, 
And  fruitful  I  waxed  of  works,  and  good  and  fair  did  they  grow  ; 
And  I  knew,  and  I  wrought  and  fore-ordered ;  and  evil  sat  by  my  side, 
And  myself  by  myself  hath  been  doomed,  and  I  look  for  the  fateful  tide  ; 
And  I  deal  with  the  generations,  and  the  men  mine  hand  hath  made. 
And  myself  by  myself  shall  be  grieved,  lest  the  world  and  its  fashioning  fade 

"  They  went  and  the  Gold  abided :  but  the  words  Allfather  spake, 

I  call  them  back  full  often  for  that  golden  even's  sake, 

Yet  little  that  hour  I  heard  them,  save  as  wind  across  the  lea; 

For  the  gold  shone  up  on  Reidmar  and  on  Fafnir's  face  and  on  me. 

And  sore  I  loved  that  treasure :  soT  wrapped  my  heart  in  guile. 

And  sleeked  my  tongue  with  sweetness,  and  set  my  face  in  a  smile, 

And  I  bade  my  father  keep  it,  the  more  part  of  the  gold. 

Yet  give  good  store  to  Fafnir  for  his  goodly  help  and  bold. 

And  deal  me  a  little  handful  for  my  smithying-help  that  day. 

But  no  little  I  desired,  though  for  little  I  might  pray; 

And  prayed  I  for  much  or  for  little,  he  answered  me  no  more 

Then  the  shepherd  answers  the  wood-wolf  who  howls  at  the  yule-tide  door  . 

But  good  he  ever  deemed  it  to  sit  on  his  ivory  throne, 

And  stare  on  the  red  rings'  glory,  and  deem  he  was  ever  alone : 

And  never  a  word  spake  Fafnir,  but  his  eyes  waxed  red  and  grim 

As  he  looked  upon  our  father,  and  noted  the  ways  of  him. 

"  The  night  waned  into  the  morning,  and  still  above  the  Hoard 
Sat  Reidmar  clad  in  purple ;  but  Fafnir  took  his  sword. 
And  I  took  my  smithying-hammer,  and  apart  in  the  world  we  went ; 
But  I  came  aback  in  the  even,  and  my  heart  was  heavy  and  spent ; 
And  I  longed,  but  fear  was  upon  me  and  I  durst  not  go  to  the  Gold ; 
So  I  lay  in  the  house  of  my  toil  mid  the  things  I  had  fashioned  of  old; 
And  methought  as  I  lay  in  my  bed  'twixt  waking  and  slumber  of  night 
That  I  heard  the  tinkling  metal  and  beheld  the  hall  alight, 


BOOK    II.     REGIN. 


97 


But  I  slept  and  dreamed  of  the  Gods,  and  the  things  that  never  have  slept, 
Till  I  woke  to  a  cry  and  a  clashing  and  forth  from  the  bed  I  leapt, 
And  there  by  the  heaped-up  Elf-gold  my  brother  Fafnir  stood. 
And  there  at  his  feet  lay  Reidmar  and  reddened  the  Treasure  with  blood , 
And  e'en  as  I  looked  on  his  eyen  they  glazed  and  whitened  with  death, 
And  forth  on  the  torch-litten  hall  he  shed  his  latest  breath. 

"  But  I  looked  on  Fafnir  and  trembled  for  he  wore  the  Helm  of  Dread, 
And  his  sword  was  bare  in  his  hand,  and  the  sword  and  the  hand  were  red 
With  the  blood  of  our  father  Reidmar,  and  his  body  was  wrapped  in  gold. 
With  the  ruddy-gleaming  mailcoat  of  whose  fellow  hath  nought  been  told. 
And  it  seemed  as  I  looked  upon  him  that  he  grew  beneath  mine  eyes : 
And  then  in  the  mid-hall's  silence  did  his  dreadful  voice  arise : 

" '  I  have  slain  my  father  Reidmar,  that  I  alone  might  keep 

The  Gold  of  the  darksome  places,  the  Candle  of  the  Deep. 

I  am  such  as  the  Gods  have  made  me,  lest  the  Dwarf-kind  people  the  earth, 

Or  mingle  their  ancient  wisdom  with  its  short-lived  latest  birth. 

I  shall  dwell  alone  henceforward,  and  the  Gold  and  its  waxing  curse, 

I  shall  brood  on  them  both  together,  let  my  life  grow  better  or  worse. 

And  I  am  a  King  henceforward  and  long  shall  be  my  life. 

And  the  Gold  shall  grow  with  my  longing,  for  I  shall  hide  it  from  strife, 

And  hoard  up  the  Ring  of  Andvari  in  the  house  thine  hand  hath  built. 

0  thou,  wilt  thou  tarry  and  tarry,  till  I  cast  thy  blood  on  the  guilt  ? 
Lo,  I  am  a  King  for  ever,  and  alone  on  the  Gold  shall  I  dwell 
And  do  no  deed  to  repent  of  and  leave  no  tale  to  tell.' 

"  More  awful  grew  his  visage  as  he  spake  the  word  of  dread 
And  no  more  durst  I  behold  him,  but  with  heart  a-cold  I  fled  j 

1  fled  from  the  glorious  house  my  hands  had  made  so  fair. 

As  poor  as  the  new-born  baby  with  nought  of  raiment  or  gear : 
I  fled  from  the  heaps  of  gold,  and  my  goods  were  the  eager  will, 
And  the  heart  that  remembereth  all,  and  the  hand  that  may  never  be  stilL 
7 


98  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

"  Then  unto  this  land  I  came,  and  that  was  long  ago 

As  men-folk  count  the  years ;  and  I  taught  them  to  reap  and  to  sow, 

And  a  famous  man  I  became :  but  that  generation  died, 

And  they  said  that  Frey  had  taught  them,  and  a  God  my  name  did  hide. 

Then  I  taught  them  the  craft  of  metals,  and  the  sailing  of  the  sea. 

And  the  taming  of  the  horse-kind,  and  the  yoke-beasts'  husbandry, 

And  the  building  up  of  houses ;  and  that  race  of  men  went  by, 

And  they  said  that  Thor  had  taught  them ;  and  a  smithying-carle  was  I 

Then  I  gave  their  maidens  the  needle  and  I  bade  them  hold  the  rock. 

And  the  shuttle-race  gaped  for  them  as  they  sat  at  the  weaving-stock. 

But  by  then  these  were  waxen  crones  to  sit  dim-eyed  by  the  door. 

It  was  Freyia  had  come  among  them  to  teach  the  weaving-lore. 

Then  I  taught  them  the  tales  of  old,  and  fair  songs  fashioned  and  true 

And  their  speech  grew  into  music  of  measured  time  and  due, 

And  they  smote  the  harp  to  my  bidding,  and  the  land  grew  soft  and  sweet: 

But  ere  the  grass  of  their  grave-mounds  rose  up  above  my  feet. 

It  was  Bragi  had  made  them  sweet-mouthed,  and  I  was  the  wandering  scald ; 

Yet  green  did  my  cunning  flourish  by  whatso  name  I  was  called, 

And  I  grew  the  master  of  masters  —  Think  thou  how  strange  it  is 

That  the  sword  in  the  hands  of  a  stripling  shall  one  day  end  all  chis ! 

"  Yet  oft  mid  all  my  wisdom  did  I  long  for  my  brother's  part. 

And  Fafnir's  mighty  kingship  weighed  heavy  on  my  heart 

When  the  Kings  of  the  earthly  kingdoms  would  give  me  golden  gifts 

From  out  of  their  scanty  treasures,  due  pay  for  my  cunning  shifts. 

And  once  —  didst  thou  number  the  years  thou  wouldst  think  it  long  ago  — 

I  wandered  away  to  the  country  from  whence  our  stem  did  grow. 

There  methought  the  fells  grown  greater,  but  waste  did  the  meadows  lie 

And  the  house  was  rent  and  ragged  and  open  to  the  sky. 

But  lo,  when  I  came  to  the  doorway,  great  silence  brooded  there. 

Nor  bat  nor  owl  would  haunt  it,  nor  the  wood-wolves  drew  anear. 

Then  I  went  to  the  pillared  hall-stead,  and  lo,  huge  heaps  of  gold. 

And  to  and  fro  amidst  them  a  mighty  Serpent  rolled : 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  99 

Then  my  heart  grew  chill  with  terror,  for  I  thought  on  the  wont  of  our  race, 

And  I,  who  had  lost  their  cunning,  was  a  man  in  a  deadly  place, 

A  feeble  man  and  a  swordless  in  the  lone  destroyer's  fold ; 

For  I  knew  that  the  Worm  was  Fafnir,  the  Wallower  on  the  Gold. 

"  So  I  gathered  my  strength  and  fled,  and  hid  my  shame  again 
Mid  the  foolish  sons  of  men-folk ;  and  the  more  my  hope  was  vain, 
The  more  I  longed  for  the  Treasure,  and  deliv'rance  from  the  yoke : 
And  yet  passed  the  generations,  and  I  dwelt  with  the  short-lived  folk. 

"  Long  years,  and  long  years  after  the  tale  of  men-folk  told 

How  up  on  the  Glittering  Heath  was  the  house  and  the  dwelling  of  gold. 

And  within  that  house  was  the  Serpent,  and  the  Lord  of  the  Fearful  Face : 

Then  I  wondered  sore  of  the  desert ;  for  I  thought  of  the  golden  place 

My  hands  of  old  had  builded ;  for  I  knew  by  many  a  sign 

That  the  Fearful  Face  was  my  brother,  that  the  blood  of  the  Worm  was  mine. 

This  was  ages  long  ago,  and  yet  in  that  desert  he  dwells, 

Betwixt  him  and  men  death  lieth,  and  no  man  of  his  semblance  tells ; 

But  the  tale  of  the  great  Gold-wallower  is  never  the  more  outworn. 

Then  came  thy  kin,  O  Sigurd,  and  thy  father's  father  was  born, 

And  I  fell  to  the  dreaming  of  dreams,  and  I  saw  thine  eyes  therein, 

And  I  looked  and  beheld  thy  glory  and  all  that  thy  sword  should  win ; 

And  I  thought  that  thou  shouldst  be  he,  who  should  bring  my  heart  its  rest^ 

That  of  all  the  gifts  of  the  Kings  thy  sword  should  give  me  the  best. 

"  Ah,  I  fell  to  the  dreaming  of  dreams  ;  and  oft  the  gold  I  saw, 
And  the  golden-fashioned  Hauberk,  clean-wrought  without  a  flaw, 
And  the  Helm  that  aweth  the  world ;  and  I  knew  of  Fafnir's  heart 
That  his  wisdom  was  greater  than  mine,  because  he  had  held  him  apart, 
Nor  spilt  on  the  sons  of  men-folk  our  knowledge  of  ancient  days, 
Nor  bartered  one  whit  for  their  love,  nor  craved  for  the  people's  praise. 

"  And  some  day  I  shall  have  it  all,  his  gold  and  his  craft  and  his  heart 


lOO  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

And  the  gathered  and  garnered  wisdom  he  guards  in  the  mountains  apart 

And  then  when  my  hand  is  upon  it,  my  hand  shall  be  as  the  spring 

To  thaw  his  winter  away  and  the  fruitful  tide  to  bring. 

It  shall  grow,  it  shall  grow  into  summer,  and  I  shall  be  he  that  wrought. 

And  my  deeds  shall  be  remembered,  and  my  name  that  once  was  nought  j 

Yea  I  shall  be  Frey,  and  Thor,  and  Freyia,  and  Bragi  in  one  : 

Yea  the  God  of  all  that  is,  —  and  no  deed  in  the  wide  world  done. 

But  the  deed  that  my  heart  would  fashion  :  and  the  songs  of  the  freed  from 

the  yoke 
Shall  bear  to  my  house  in  the  heavens  the  love  and  the  longing  of  folk ; 
And  there  shall  be  no  more  dying,  and  the  sea  shall  be  as  the  land, 
And  the  world  for  ever  and  ever  shall  be  young  beneath  my  hand." 

Then  his  eyelids  fell,  and  he  slumbered,  and  it  seemed  as  Sigurd  gazed 

That  the  flames  leapt  up  in  the  stithy  and  about  the  Master  blazed. 

And  his  hand  in  the  harp-strings  wandered  and  the  sweetness  from  them 

Then  unto  his  feet  leapt  Sigurd  and  drew  his  stripling's  sword,      [poured. 

And  he  cried :  "  Awake,  O  Master,  for,  lo,  the  day  goes  by. 

And  this  too  is  an  ancient  story,  that  the  sons  of  men-folk  die, 

And  all  save  fame  departeth.     Awake  !  for  the  day  grows  late. 

And  deeds  by  the  door  are  passing,  nor  the  Norns  will  have  them  wait." 

Then  Regin  groaned  and  wakened,  sad-eyed  and  heavy-browed, 
And  weary  and  worn  was  he  waxen  as  a  man  by  a  burden  bowed :         [old 
And  he  spake  :  "  Hast  thou  hearkened,  Sigurd,  wilt  thou  help  a  man  that  is 
To  avenge  him  for  his  father  ?     Wilt  thou  win  that  Treasure  of  Gold 
And  be  more  than  the  Kings  of  the  earth  ?  Wilt  thou  rid  the  earth  of  a  wrong 
And  heal  the  woe  and  the  sorrow  my  heart  hath  endured  o'erlong  ?  " 

Then  Sigurd  looked  upon  him  with  steadfast  eyes  and  clear 
And  Regin  drooped  and  trembled  as  he  stood  the  doom  to  hear  : 
But  the  bright  child  spake  as  aforetime,  and  answered  the  Master  and  said  : 
"  Thou  shalt  have  thy  will,  and  the  treasure,  and  take  the  curse  on  thine 
head," 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  loi 


Of  the  forging  of  the  Sword  that  is  called  The   Wrath  of  Sigurd, 

Now  again  came  Sigurd  to  Regin,  and  said  :  "  Thou  hast  taught  me  a  task 
Whereof  none  knoweth  the  ending:  and  a  gift  at  thine  hands  I  ask." 

Then  answered  Regin  the  Master  :  "  The  world  must  be  wide  indeed 
If  my  hand  may  not  reach  across  it  for  aught  thine  heart  may  need." 

"Yea  wide  is  the  world,"  said  Sigurd,  "and  soon  spoken  is  thy  word ; 
But  this  gift  thou  shalt  nought  gainsay  me :  for  I  bid  thee  forge  me  a  sword." 

Then  spake  the  Master  of  Masters,  and  his  voice  was  sweet  and  soft, 

"  Look  forth  abroad,  O  Sigurd,  and  note  in  the  heavens  aloft  [shield  : 

How  the  dim  white  moon  of  the  daylight  hangs  round  as  the  Goth-god's 

Now  for  thee  first  rang  mine  anvil  when  she  walked  the  heavenly  field 

A  slim  and  lovely  lady,  and  the  old  moon  lay  on  her  arm : 

Lo,  here  is  a  sword  I  have  wrought  thee  with  many  a  spell  and  charm 

And  all  the  craft  of  the  Dwarf -kind  j  be  glad  thereof  and  sure  ; 

Mid  many  a  storm  of  battle  full  well  shall  it  endure." 

Then  Sigurd  looked  on  the  slayer,  and  never  a  word  would  speak : 
Gemmed  were  the  hilts  and  golden,  and  the  blade  was  blue  and  bleak. 
And  runes  of  the  Dwarf-kind's  cunning  each  side  the  trench  were  scored : 
But  soft  and  sweet  spake  Regin  :  "  How  likest  thou  the  sword  1 " 

Then  Sigurd  laughed  and  answered :  "  The  work  is  proved  by  the  deed ; 
See  now  if  this  be  a  traitor  to  fail  me  in  my  need." 

Then  Regin  trembled  and  shrank,  so  bright  his  eyes  outshone 

As  he  turned  about  to  the  anvil,  and  smote  the  sword  thereon  ; 

But  the  shards  fell  shivering  earthward,  and  Sigurd's  heart  grew  wroth 

As  the  steel-flakes  tinkled  about  him :  "  Lo,  there  the  right-hand's  troth! 


I02  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Lo,  there  the  golden  glitter,  and  the  word  that  soon  is  spilt." 
And  down  amongst  the  ashes  he  cast  the  glittering  hilt, 
And  turned  his  back  on  Regin  and  strode  out  through  the  door 
And  for  many  a  day  of  spring-tide  came  back  again  no  more. 
But  at  last  he  came  to  the  stithy  and  again  took  up  the  word : 
"  What  hast  thou  done,  O  Master,  in  the  forging  of  the  sword  ? ' 

Then  sweetly  Regin  answered :  "  Hard  task-master  art  thou, 

But  lo,  a  blade  of  battle  that  shall  surely  please  thee  now ! 

Two  moons  are  clean  departed  since  thou  lookedst  towards  the  sky 

And  sawest  the  dim  white  circle  amid  the  cloud-flecks  lie ; 

And  night  and  day  have  I  laboured ;  and  the  cunning  of  old  days 

Hath  surely  left  my  right-hand  if  this  sword  thou  shalt  not  praise." 

And  indeed  the  hilts  gleamed  glorious  with  many  a  dear-bought  stone, 

And  down  the  fallow  edges  the  light  of  battle  shone ; 

Yet  Sigurd's  eyes  shone  brighter,  nor  yet  might  Regin  face 

Those  eyes  of  the  heart  of  the  Volsungs ;  but  trembled  in  his  place 

As  Sigurd  cried :  "  O  Regin,  thy  kin  of  the  days  of  old 

Were  an  evil  and  treacherous  folk,  and  they  lied  and  murdered  for  gold  j 

And  now  if  thou  wouldst  bewray  me,  of  the  ancient  curse  beware. 

And  set  thy  face  as  the  flint  the  bale  and  the  shame  to  bear  : 

For  he  that  would  win  to  the  heavens,  and  be  as  the  Gods  on  high 

Must  tremble  nought  at  the  road,  and  the  place  where  men-folk  die.' 

White  leaps  the  blade  in  his  hand  and  gleams  in  the  gear  of  the  wall, 

And  he  smites,  and  the  oft-smitten  edges  on  the  beaten  anvil  fall : 

But  the  life  of  the  sword  departed,  and  dull  and  broken  it  lay 

On  the  ashes  and  flaked-off  iron,  and  no  word  did  Sigurd  say, 

But  strode  off  through  the  door  of  the  stithy  and  went  to  the  Hall  of  Kings, 

And  was  merry  and  blithe  that  even  mid  all  imaginings. 

But  when  the  morrow  was  come  he  went  to  his  mother  and  spake : 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  lo^ 

"  The  shards,  the  shards  of  the  sword,  that  thou  gleanedst  for  my  sake 
In  the  night  on  the  field  of  slaughter,  in  the  tide  when  my  father  fell, 
Hast  thou  kept  them  through  sorrow  and  joyance  ?  has  thou  warded  them 
Where  has  thou  laid  them,  my  mother  ?  "  [trusty  and  well  ? 

Then  she  looked  upon  him  and  said : 
"  Art  thou  wroth,  O  Sigurd  my  son,  that  such  eyes  are  in  thine  head  ? 
And  wilt  thou  be  wroth  with  thy  mother  ?  do  I  withstand  thee  at  all  ? " 

"Nay,"  said  he,  "nought  am  I  wrathful,  but  the  days  rise  up  like  a  wall 

Betwixt  my  soul  and  the  deeds,  and  I  strive  to  rend  them  through. 

And  why  wilt  thou  fear  mine  eyen  ?  as  the  sword  lies  baleful  and  blue 

E'en  'twixt  the  lips  of  lovers,  when  they  swear  their  troth  thereon, 

So  keen  are  the  eyes  ye  have  fashioned,  ye  folk  of  the  days  agone ; 

For  therein  is  the  light  of  battle,  though  whiles  it  lieth  asleep. 

Now  give  me  the  sword,  my  mother,  that  Sigmund  gave  thee  to  keep." 

She  said :  "  I  shall  give  it  thee  gladly,  for  fain  shall  I  be  of  thy  praise 
When  thou  knowest  my  careful  keeping  of  that  hope  of  the  earlier  days." 

So  she  took  his  hand  in  her  hand,  and  they  went  their  ways,  they  twain. 
Till  they  came  to  the  treasure  of  queen-folk,  the  guarded  chamber  of  gain 
They  were  all  alone  with  its  riches,  and  she  turned  the  key  in  the  gold. 
And  lifted  the  sea-born  purple,  and  the  silken  web  unrolled, 
And  lo,  'twixt  her  hands  and  her  bosom  the  shards  of  Sigmund's  sword ; 
No  rust-fleck  stained  its  edges,  and  the  gems  of  the  ocean's  hoard 
Were  as  bright  in  the  hilts  and  glorious,  as  when  in  the  Volsungs'  hall 
It  shone  in  the  eyes  of  the  earl-folk  and  flashed  from  the  shielded  wall. 

But  Sigurd  smiled  upon  it,  and  he  said :  "  O  Mother  of  Kings, 
Well  hast  thou  warded  the  war-glaive  for  a  mirror  of  many  things, 
And  a  hope  of  much  fulfilment :  well  hast  thou  given  to  me 
The  message  of  my  fathers,  and  the  word  of  things  to  be : 
Trusty  hath  been  thy  warding,  but  its  hour  is  over  now : 


I04  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

These  shards  shall  be  knit  together,  and  shall  hear  the  war-wind  blow. 
They  shall  shine  through  the  rain  of  Odin,  as  the  sun  come  back  to  the  worlds 
When  the  heaviest  bolt  of  the  thunder  amidst  the  storm  is  hurled : 
They  shall  shake  the  thrones  of  Kings,  and  shear  the  walls  of  war, 
And  undo  the  knot  of  treason  when  the  world  is  darkening  o'er. 
They  have  shone  in  the  dusk  and  the  night-tide,  they  shall  shine  in  the 

dawn  and  the  day; 
They  have  gathered  the  storm  together,  they  shall  chase  the  clouds  away ; 
They  have  sheared  red  gold  asunder,  they  shall  gleam  o'er  the  garnered  gold ; 
They  have  ended  many  a  story,  they  shall  fashion  a  tale  to  be  told  :     [folk : 
They  have  lived  in  the  wrack  of  the  people ;  they  shall  live  in  the  glory  of 
They  have  stricken  the  Gods  in  battle,  for  the  Gods  shall  they  strike  the 

[stroke." 
Then  she  felt  his  hands  about  her  as  he  took  the  fateful  sword, 
And  he  kissed  her  soft  and  sweetly ;  but  she  answered  never  a  word : 
So  great  and  fair  was  he  waxen,  so  glorious  was  his  face. 
So  young,  as  the  deathless  Gods  are,  that  long  in  the  golden  place 
She  stood  when  he  was  departed :  as  some  for-travailed  one 
Comes  over  the  dark  fell-ridges  on  the  birth-tide  of  the  sun. 
And  his  gathering  sleep  falls  from  him  mid  the  glory  and  the  blaze  ; 
And  he  sees  the  world  grow  merry  and  looks  on  the  lightened  ways, 
While  the  ruddy  streaks  are  melting  in  the  day-flood  broad  and  white ; 
Then  the  morn-dusk  he  forgetteth,  and  the  moon-lit  waste  of  night. 
And  the  hall  whence  he  departed  with  its  yellow  candles'  flare : 
So  stood  the  Isle-king's  daughter  in  that  treasure-chamber  fair. 

But  swift  on  his  ways  went  Sigurd,  and  to  Regin's  house  he  came. 

Where  the  Master  stood  in  the  doorway  and  behind  him  leapt  the  flame, 

And  dark  he  looked  and  little  :  no  more  his  speech  was  sweet. 

No  words  on  his  lip  were  gathered  the  Volsung  child  to  greet. 

Till  he  took  the  sword  from  Sigurd  and  the  shards  of  the  days  of  old ; 

Then  he  spake : 

"Will  nothing  serve  thee  save  this  blue  steel  and  cold. 


BOOK    II.     REGIN.  105 

The  bane  of  thy  father's  father,  the  fate  of  all  his  kin, 

The  baleful  blade  I  fashioned,  the  Wrath  that  the  Gods  would  win  ? " 

Then  answered  the  eye-bright  Sigurd  :  "If  thou  thy  craft  wilt  do 

Nought  save  these  battle-gleanings  shall  be  my  helper  true: 

And  what  if  thou  begrudgest,  and  my  battle-blade  be  dull, 

Yet  the  hand  of  the  Norns  is  lifted  and  the  cup  is  over-full. 

Repentst  thou  ne'er  so  sorely  that  thy  kin  must  lie  alow, 

How  much  soe'er  thou  longest  the  world  to  overthrow. 

And,  doubting  the  gold  and  the  wisdom,  wouldst  even  now  appease 

Blind  hate  and  eyeless  murder,  and  win  the  world  with  these ; 

O'er-late  is  the  time  for  repenting  the  word  thy  lips  have  said: 

Thou  shalt  have  the  Gold  and  the  wisdom  and  take  its  curse  on  thine  head 

I  say  that  thy  lips  have  spoken,  and  no  more  with  thee  it  lies 

To  do  the  deed  or  leave  it :  since  thou  hast  shown  mine  eyes 

The  world  that  was  aforetime,  I  see  the  world  to  be ; 

And  woe  to  the  tangling  thicket,  or  the  wall  that  hindereth  me  ! 

And  short  is  the  space  I  will  tarry  ;  for  how  if  the  Worm  should  die 

Ere  the  first  of  my  strokes  be  stricken  ?     Wilt  thou  get  to  thy  mastery 

And  knit  these  shards  together  that  once  in  the  Branstock  stood  ? 

But  if  not  and  a  smith's  hands  fail  me,  a  king's  hand  yet  shall  be  good ; 

And  the  Norns  have  doomed  thy  brother.     And  yet  I  deem  this  sword 

Is  the  slayer  of  the  Serpent,  and  the  scatterer  of  the  Hoard." 

Great  waxed  the  gloom  of  Regin,  and  he  said :  "  Thou  sayest  sooth 

For  none  may  turn  him  backward :  the  sword  of  a  very  youth 

Shall  one  day  end  my  cunning,  as  the  Gods  my  joyance  slew. 

When  nought  thereof  they  were  deeming,  and  another  thing  would  do. 

But  this  sword  sha.i  slay  the  Serpent ;  and  do  another  deed. 

And  many  an  one  thereafter  till  it  fail  thee  in  thy  need. 

But  as  fair  and  great  as  thou  standest,  yet  get  thee  from  mine  house, 

For  in  me  too  might  ariseth,  and  the  place  is  perilous 

With  the  craft  that  was  aforetime,  and  shall  never  be  again, 


io6  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

When  the  hands  that  have  taught  thee  cunning  have  failed  from  the  world 

of  men. 
Thou  art  wroth ;  but  thy  wrath  must  slumber  till  fate  its  blossom  bear ; 
Not  thus  were  the  eyes  of  Odin  when  I  held  him  in  the  snare. 
Depart !  lest  the  end  overtake  us  ere  thy  work  and  mine  be  done, 
But  come  again  in  the  night-tide  and  the  slumber  of  the  sun, 
When  the  sharded  moon  of  April  hangs  round  in  the  undark  May." 

Hither  and  thither  a  while  did  the  heart  of  Sigurd  sway ; 
For  he  feared  no  craft  of  the  Dwarf-kind,  nor  heeded  the  ways  of  Fate, 
But  his  hand  wrought  e'en  as  his  heart  would :  and  now  was  he  weary  with  hate 
Of  the  hatred  and  scorn  of  the  Gods,  and  the  greed  of  gold  and  of  gain, 
And  the  weaponless  hands  of  the  stripling  of  the  wrath  and  the  rending 

were  fain. 
But  there  stood  Regin  the  Master,  and  his  eyes  were  on  Sigurd's  eyes. 
Though  nought  belike  they  beheld  him,  and  his  brow  was  sad  and  wise ; 
And  the  greed  died  out  of  his  visage  and  he  stood  like  an  image  of  old. 

So  the  Norns  drew  Sigurd  away,  and  the  tide  was  an  even  of  gold. 
And  sweet  in  the  April  even  were  the  fowl-kind  singing  their  best ; 
And  the  light  of  life  smote  Sigurd,  and  the  joy  that  knows  no  rest. 
And  the  fond  unnamed  desire,  and  the  hope  of  hidden  things ; 
And  he  wended  fair  and  lovely  to  the  house  of  the  feasting  Kings. 

But  now  when  the  moon  was  at  full  and  the  undark  May  begun. 
Went  Sigurd  unto  Regin  mid  the  slumber  of  the  sun. 
And  amidst  the  fire-hall's  pavement  the  King  of  the  Dwarf-kind  stood 
Like  an  image  of  deeds  departed  and  days  that  once  were  good ; 
And  he  seemed  but  faint  and  weary,  and  his  eyes  were  dim  and  dazed 
As  they  met  the  glory  of  Sigurd  where  the  fitful  candles  blazed. 
Then  he  spake : 

"  Hail,  Son  of  the  Volsungs,  the  corner-stone  is  laid, 
I  have  toiled  and  thou  hast  desired,  and,  lo,  the  fateful  blade ! " 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  107 

Then  Sigurd  saw  it  lying  on  the  ashes  slaked  and  pale 

Like  the  sun  and  the  lightning  mingled  mid  the  even's  cloudy  bale ; 

For  ruddy  and  great  were  the  hilts,  and  the  edges  fine  and  wan, 

And  all  adown  to  the  blood-point  a  very  flame  there  ran 

That  swallowed  the  runes  of  wisdom  wherewith  its  sides  were  scored. 

No  sound  did  Sigurd  utter  as  he  stooped  adown  for  his  sword, 

But  it  seemed  as  his  lips  were  moving  with  speech  of  strong  desire. 

White  leapt  the  blade  o'er  his  head,  and  he  stood  in  the  ring  of  its  fire 

As  hither  and  thither  it  played,  till  it  fell  on  the  anvil's  strength. 

And  he  cried  aloud  in  his  glory,  and  held  out  the  sword  full  length, 

As  one  who  would  show  it  the  world ;  for  the  edges  were  dulled  no  whit, 

And  the  anvil  was  cleft  to  the  pavement  with  the  dreadful  dint  of  it. 

But  Regin  cried  to  his  harp-strings :  "  Before  the  days  of  men 

I  smithied  the  Wrath  of  Sigurd,  and  now  is  it  smithied  again : 

And  my  hand  alone  hath  done  it,  and  my  heart  alone  hath  dared 

To  bid  that  man  to  the  mountain,  and  behold  his  glory  bared. 

Ah,  if  the  son  of  Sigmund  might  wot  of  the  thing  I  would. 

Then  how  were  the  ages  bettered,  and  the  world  all  waxen  good ! 

Then  how  were  the  past  forgotten  and  the  weary  days  of  yore, 

And  the  hope  of  man  that  dieth  and  the  waste  that  never  bore ! 

How  should  this  one  live  through  the  winter  and  know  of  all  increase ! 

How  should  that  one  spring  to  the  sunlight  and- bear  the  blossom  of  peace 

No  more  should  the  long-lived  wisdom  o'er  the  waste  of  the  wilderness  stray  j 

Nor  the  clear-eyed  hero  hasten  to  the  deedless  ending  of  day. 

And  what  if  the  hearts  of  the  Volsungs  for  this  deed  of  deeds  were  bom, 

How  then  were  their  life-days  evil  and  the  end  of  their  lives  forlorn ! " 

There  stood  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  and  heard  how  the  harp-strings  rang, 
But  of  other  things  they  told  him  than  the  hope  that  the  Master  sang ; 
And  his  world  lay  far  away  from  the  Dwarf-king's  eyeless  realm 
And  the  road  that  leadeth  nowhere,  and  the  ship  without  a  helm : 
But  he  spake  :  "  How  oft  shall  I  say  it,  that  I  shall  work  thy  will  ? 


io8  THE  STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

If  my  father  hath  made  me  mighty,  thine  heart  shall  I  fulfill 

With  the  wisdom  and  gold  thou  wouldest  before  I  wend  on  my  ways , 

For  now  hast  thou  failed  me  nought,  and  the  sword  is  the  wonder  of  days." 

No  word  for  a  while  spake  Regin ;  but  he  hung  his  head  adown 
As  a  man  that  pondereth  sorely,  and  his  voice  once  more  was  grown 
As  the  voice  of  the  smithying-master  as  he  spake :  "  This  Wrath  of  thine 
Hath  cleft  the  hard  and  the  heavy ;  it  shall  shear  the  soft  and  the  fine : 
Come  forth  to  the  night  and  prove  it." 

So  they  twain  went  forth  abroad, 
And  the  moon  lay  white  on  the  river  and  lit  the  sleepless  ford, 
And  down  to  its  pools  they  wended,  and  the  stream  was  swift  and  full ; 
Then  Regin  cast  against  it  a  lock  of  fine-spun  wool, 
And  it  whirled  about  on  the  eddy  till  it  met  the  edges  bared, 
And  as  clean  as  the  careless  water  the  laboured  fleece  was  sheared. 

Then  Regin  spake :  "  It  is  good,  what  the  smithying-carle  hath  wrought : 
Now  the  work  of  the  King  beginneth  and  the  end  that  my  soul  hath  sought 
Thou  shalt  toil  and  I  shall  desire,  and  the  deed  shall  be  surely  done : 
For  thy  Wrath  is  alive  and  awake  and  the  story  of  bale  is  begun." 

Therewith  was  the  Wrath  of  Sigurd  laid  soft  in  a  golden  sheath 
And  the  peace-strings  knit  around  it ;  for  that  blade  was  fain  of  death ; 
And  'tis  ill  to  show  such  edges  to  the  broad  blue  light  of  day, 
Or  to  let  the  hall-glare  light  them,  if  ye  list  not  play  the  play. 


Of  Gripit^s  Foretelling. 

Now  Sigurd  backeth  Greyfell  on  the  first  of  the  morrow  morn, 

And  he  rideth  fair  and  softly  through  the  acres  of  the  corn ; 

The  Wrath  to  his  side  is  girded,  but  hid  are  the  edges  blue, 

As  he  wendeth  his  ways  to  the  mountains,  and  rideth  the  horse-mead  through. 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  109 

His  wide  grey  eyes  are  happy,  and  his  voice  is  sweet  and  soft, 
As  amid  the  mead-lark's  singing  he  casteth  song  aloft ! 
Lo,  lo,  the  horse  and  the  rider  !     So  once  maybe  it  was, 
When  over  the  earth  unpeopled  the  youngest  God  would  pass ; 
But  never  again  meseemeth  shall  such  a  sight  betide, 
Till  over  a  world  unwrongful  new-born  shall  Baldur  ride. 

So  he  comes  to  that  ness  of  the  mountains,  and  Gripir's  garden  steep, 
That  bravely  Greyfell  breasteth,  and  adown  by  the  door  doth  he  leap 
And  his  war-gear  rattleth  upon  him ;  there  is  none  to  ask  or  forbid 
As  he  wendeth  the  house  clear-lighted,  where  no  mote  of  the  dust  is  hid, 
Though  the  sunlight  hath  not  entered :  the  walls  are  clear  and  bright, 
For  they  cast  back  each  to  other  the  golden  Sigurd's  light ; 
Through  the  echoing  ways  of  the  house  bright-eyed  he  wendeth  along, 
And  the  mountain-wind  is  with  him,  and  the  hovering  eagles'  song ; 
But  no  sound  of  the  children  of  men  may  the  ears  of  the  Volsung  hear. 
And  no  sign  of  their  ways  in  the  world,  or  their  will,  or  their  hope  or  their  fear 

So  he  comes  to  the  hall  of  Gripir,  and  gleaming-green  is  it  built 

As  the  house  of  under-ocean  where  the  wealth  of  the  greedy  is  spilt ; 

Gleaming  and  green  as  the  sea,  and  rich  as  its  rock-strewn  floor, 

And  fresh  as  the  autumn  morning  when  the  burning  of  summer  is  o'er. 

There  he  looks  and  beholdeth  the  high-seat,  and  he  sees  it  strangely  wrought, 

Of  the  tooth  of  the  sea-beast  fashioned  ere  the  Dwarf -kind  came  to  nought ; 

And  he  looks,  and  thereon  is  Gripir,  the  King  exceeding  old, 

With  the  sword  of  his  fathers  girded,  and  his  raiment  wrought  of  gold ; 

With  the  ivory  rod  in  his  right-hand,  with  his  left  on  the  crystal  laid, 

That  is  round  as  the  world  of  men-folk,  and  after  its  image  made. 

And  clear  is  it  wrought  to  the  eyen  that  may  read  therein  of  fate 

Though  little  indeed  be  its  sea,  and  its  earth  not  wondrous  great. 

There  Sigurd  stands  in  the  hall,  on  the  sheathbd  Wrath  doth  he  lean, 
All  his  golden  light  is  mirrored  in  the  gleaming  floor  and  green ; 


no  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  the  smile  in  his  face  upriseth  as  he  looks  on  the  ancient  King, 
And  their  glad  eyes  meet  and  their  laughter,  and  sweet  is  the  welcoming : 
And  Gripir  saith :  "  Hail  Sigurd  !  for  my  bidding  hast  thou  done, 
And  here  in  the  mountain-dwelling  are  two  Kings  of  men  alone." 

But  Sigurd  spake :  "  Hail  father !  I  am  girt  with  the  fateful  sword 
And  my  face  is  set  to  the  highway,  and  I  come  for  thy  latest  word." 

Said  Gripir:  "What  wouldst  thou  hearken  ere  we  sit  and  drink  the  wine  .?  ^ 
"Thy  word  and  the  Norns',"  said  Sigurd,  "but  never  a  word  of  mine." 

[thine  hand  .? " 
"  What  sights  wouldst  thou  see,"  said  Gripir,  "  ere  mine  hand  shall  take 

"  As  the  Gods  would  I  see,"  said  Sigurd,  "  though  Death  light  up  the  land." 

"  What  hope  wouldst  thou  hope,  O  Sigurd,  ere  we  kiss,  we  twain,  and  depart  ? " 

[heart." 
"  Thy  hope  and  the  Gods',"  said  Sigurd,  "  though  the  grief  lie  ha-'d  on  my 

Nought  answered  the  ancient  wise-one,  and  not  a  whit  had  he  stirf*d 

Since  the  clash  of  Sigurd's  raiment  in  his  mountain-hall  he  heard 

But  the  ball  that  imaged  the  earth  was  set  in  his  hand  grown  old ; 

And  belike  it  was  to  his  vision,  as  the  wide-world's  ocean  rolled. 

And  the  forests  waved  with  the  wind,  and  the  corn  was  gay  with  tf^  lark, 

And  the  gold  in  its  nether  places  grew  up  in  the  dusk  and  the  dark 

And  its  children  built  and  departed,  and  its  King-folk  conquered  anc  went, 

As  over  the  crystal  image  his  all-wise  face  was  bent : 

For  all  his  desire  was  dead,  and  he  lived  as  a  God  shall  live,  ^  ^ive. 

Whom  the  prayers  of  the  world  hath  forgotten,  and  to  whom  no  hand  *na) 

But  there  stood  the  mighty  Volsung,  and  leaned  on  the  hidden  Wrath , 
As  the  earliest  sun's  uprising  o'er  the  sea-plain  draws  a  path 
Whereby  men  sail  to  the  Eastward  and  the  dawn  of  another  day, 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  iii 

So  the  image  of  King  Sigurd  on  the  gleaming  pavement  lay. 

Then  great  in  the  hall  fair-pillared  the  voice  of  Gripir  arose, 
And  it  ran  through  the  glimmering  house-ways,  and  forth  to  the  sunny  close  ; 
There  mid  the  birds'  rejoicing  went  the  voice  of  an  o'er-wise  King 
Like  a  wind  of  midmost  winter  come  back  to  talk  with  spring. 

But  the  voice  cried  :  "  Sigurd,  Sigurd  !  O  great,  O  early  born  ! 
O  hope  of  the  Kings  first  fashioned !  O  blossom  of  the  morn  ! 
Short  day  and  long  remembrance,  fair  summer  of  the  North ! 
One  day  shall  the  worn  world  wonder  how  first  thou  wentest  forth ! 

"  Arise,  O  Sigurd,  Sigurd  !  in  the  night  arise  and  go,  [home's  foe  : 

Thou  shalt  smite  when  the  day-dawn  glimmers  through  the  folds  of  God- 

"  There  the  child  in  the  noon-tide  smiteth  j  the  young  King  rendeth  apart, 
The  old  guile  by  the  guile  encompassed,  the  heart  made  wise  by  the  heart. 

"  Bind  the  red  rings,  O  Sigurd  j  bind  up  to  cast  abroad  ! 

That  the  earth  may  laugh  before  thee  rejoiced  by  the  Waters'  Hoard. 

"  Ride  on,  O  Sigurd,  Sigurd !  for  God's  word  goes  forth  on  the  wind. 
And  he  speaketh  not  twice  over ;  nor  shall  they  loose  that  bind  : 
But  the  Day  and  the  Day  shall  loosen,  and  the  Day  shall  awake  and  arise, 
And  the  Day  shall  rejoice  with  the  Dawning,  and  the  wise  heart  learn  of 

[the  wise. 
"  O  fair,  O  fearless,  O  mighty,  how  green  are  the  garths  of  Kings, 
How  soft  are  the  ways  before  thee  to  the  heart  of  their  war-farings  ! 

"  How  green  are  the  garths  of  King-folk,  how  fair  is  the  lily  and  rose 
In  the  house  of  the  Cloudy  People,  'neath  the  towers  of  kings  and  foes  I 

"  Smite  now,  smite  now  in  the  noontide !  ride  on  through  the  hosts  of  men  I 


112  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Lest  the  dear  remembrance  perish,  and  today  come  not  again. 

[hold 
•*  Is  it  day  ?  —  But  the  house  is  darkling  —  But  the  hand  would  gather  and 
And  the  lips  have  kissed  the  cloud-wreath,  and  a  cloud  the  arms  enfold. 

"  In  the  dusk  hath  the  Sower  arisen ;  in  the  dark  hath  he  cast  the  seed. 
And  the  ear  is  the  sorrow  of  Odin  and  the  wrong,  and  the  nameless  need ! 

**  Ah  the  hand  hath  gathered  and  garnered,  and  empty  is  the  hand, 
Though  the  day  be  full  and  fruitful  mid  the  drift  of  the  Cloudy  Land  ! 

"  Look,  look  on  the  drift  of  the  clouds,  how  the  day  and  the  even  doth  grow 
As  the  long-forgotten  dawning  that  was  a  while  ago  ! 

"  Dawn,  dawn,  O  mighty  of  men !  and  why  wilt  thou  never  awake, 
When  the  holy  field  of  the  Goth-folk  cries  out  for  thy  love  and  thy  sake  ? 

"  Dawn,  now  ;  but  the  house  is  silent,  and  dark  is  the  purple  blood 

On  the  breast  of  the  Queen  fair-fashioned  ;  and  it  riseth  up  as  a  flood 

Round  the  posts  of  the  door  beloved ;  and  a  deed  there  lieth  therein : 

The  last  of  the  deeds  of  Sigurd ;  the  worst  of  the  Cloudy  Kin  — 

The  slayer  slain  by  the  slain  within  the  door  and  without. 

—  O  dawn  as  the  eve  of  the  birth-day  !  O  dark  world  cumbered  with  doubt  1 

"  Shall  it  never  be  day  any  more,  nor  the  sun's  uprising  and  growth  ? 
Shall  the  kings  of  earth  lie  sleeping  and  the  war-dukes  wander  in  sloth 
Through  the  last  of  the  winter  twilight  ?  is  the  word  of  the  wise-ones  said 
Till  the  five-fold  winter  be  ended  and  the  trumpet  waken  the  dead  ? 

"  Short  day  and  long  remembrance  !  great  glory  for  the  earth ! 

O  deeds  of  the  Day  triumphant !  O  word  of  Sigurd's  worth  ! 

It  is  done,  and  who  shall  undo  it  of  all  who  were  ever  alive  ?  [strive, 

May  the  Gods  or  the  high  Gods'  masters  gainst  the  tale  of  the  righteous 


BOOK    II.     REGIN.  113 

And  the  deeds  to  follow  after,  and  all  their  deeds  increase, 
Till  the  uttermost  field  is  foughten,  and  Baldur  riseth  in  peace ! 

"  Cry  out,  O  waste,  before  him !  O  rocks  of  the  wilderness,  cry  ! 

For  tomorn  shalt  thou  see  the  glory,  and  the  man  not  made  to  die ! 

Cry  out,  O  upper  heavens  !  O  clouds  beneath  the  lift 

For  the  golden  King  shall  be  riding  high-headed  midst  the  drift : 

The  mountain  waits  and  the  fire ;  there  waiteth  the  heart  of  the  wise 

Till  the  earthly  toil  is  accomplished,  and  again  shall  the  fire  arise ; 

And  none  shall  be  nigh  in  the  ending  and  none  by  his  heart  shall  be  laid. 

Save  the  world  that  he  cherished  and  quickened,  and  the  Day  that  he 

[wakened  and  made." 
So  died  the  voice  of  Gripir  from  amidst  the  sunny  close. 
And  the  sound  of  hastening  eagles  from  the  mountain's  feet  arose. 
But  the  hall  was  silent  a  little,  for  still  stood  Sigmund's  son, 
And  he  heard  the  words  and  remembered,  and  knew  them  one  by  one. 
Then  he  turned  on  the  ancient  Gripir  with  eyes  that  knew  no  guile 
And  smiled  on  the  wise  of  King-folk  as  the  first  of  men  might  smile 
On  the  God  that  hath  fashioned  him  happy  ;  and  he  spake  : 

"  Hast  thou  spoken  and  known 
How  there  standeth  a  child  before  thee  and  a  stripling  scarcely  grown  ? 
Or  hast  thou  told  of  the  Volsungs,  and  the  gathered  heart  of  these. 
And  their  still  unquenched  desire  for  garnering  fame's  increase  ? 
E'en  so  do  I  hearken  thy  words  :  for  I  wot  how  they  deem  it  long 
Till  a  man  from  their  seed  be  arisen  to  deal  with  the  cumber  and  wrong. 
Bid  me  therefore  to  sit  by  thy  side,  for  behold  I  wend  on  my  way, 
And  the  gates  swing  to  behind  me,  and  each  day  of  mine  is  a  day 
With  deeds  in  the  eve  and  the  morning,  nor  deeds  shall  the  noontide  lack ; 
To  the  right  and  the  left  none  calleth,  and  no  voice  crieth  aback." 

" Come,  kin  of  the  Gods,"  said  Gripir,  "come  up  and  sit  by  my  side 
That  we  twain  may  be  glad  as  the  fearless,  and  they  that  have  nothing  to  hide 
I  have  wrought  out  my  will  and  abide  it,  and  I  sit  ungrieved  and  alone, 
8 


114  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

I  look  upon  men  and  I  help  not ;  to  me  are  the  deeds  long  done 
As  those  of  today  and  tomorrow :  for  these  and  for  those  am  I  glad, 
But  the  Gods  and  men  are  the  framers,  and  the  days  of  my  life  I  have  had." 

Then  Sigurd  came  unto  Gripir,  and  he  kissed  the  wise-one's  face, 
And  they  sat  in  the  high-seat  together,  the  child  and  the  elder  of  days  ; 
And  they  drank  of  the  wine  of  King-folk,  and  were  joyful  each  of  each, 
And  spake  for  a  while  of  matters  that  are  meet  for  King-folk's  speech ; 
The  deeds  of  men  that  have  been  and  Kin  of  the  Kings  of  the  earth ; 
And  Gripir  told  of  the  outlands,  and  the  mid-world's  billowy  girth, 
And  tales  of  the  upper  heaven  were  mingled  with  his  talk,  [walk, 

And  the  halls  where  the  Sea-Queen's  kindred  o'er  the  gem-strewn  pavement 
And  the  innermost  parts  of  the  earth,  where  they  lie,  the  green  and  the  blue, 
And  the  red  and  the  glittering  gem-stones  that  of  old  the  Dwarf-kind  knew 

Long  Sigurd  sat  and  marvelled  at  the  mouth  that  might  not  lie, 
And  the  eyes  no  God  had  blinded,  and  the  lone  heart  raised  on  high. 
Then  he  rose  from  the  gleaming  high-seat,  and  the  rings  of  battle  rang 
And  the  sheathbd  Wrath  was  hearkening  and  a  song  of  war  it  sang, 
But  Sigurd  spake  unto  Gripir : 

"  Long  and  lovely  are  thy  days, 
And  thy  years  fulfilled  of  wisdom,  and  thy  feet  on  the  unhid  ways, 
And  the  guileless  heart  of  the  great  that  knoweth  not  anger  nor  pain : 
So  once  hath  a  man  been  fashioned  and  shall  not  be  again. 
But  for  me  hath  been  foaled  the  war-horse,  the  grey  steed  swift  as  the  cloud, 
And  for  me  were  the  edges  smithied,  and  the  Wrath  cries  out  aloud ; 
And  a  voice  hath  called  from  the  darkness,  and  I  ride  to  the  Glittering  Heath ; 
To  smite  on  the  door  of  Destruction,  and  waken  the  warder  of  Death." 

So  they  kissed,  the  wise  and  the  wise,  and  the  child  from  the  elder  t>H«»ed| 
And  again  in  the  glimmering  house-ways  the  golden  Sigurd  burned  ; 
He  stood  outside  in  the  sunlight,  and  tarried  never  a  deal. 
But  leapt  on  the  cloudy  Greyfell  with  the  clank  of  gold  and  steel, 


BOOK  11.     REGIN.  115 

And  he  rode  through  the  sinking  day  to  the  walls  of  the  kingly  stead, 
And  came  to  Regin's  dwelling  when  the  wind  was  fallen  dead, 
And  the  great  sun  just  departing :  then  blood-red  grew  the  west, 
And  the  fowl  flew  home  from  the  sea-mead,  and  all  things  sank  to  rest. 

Sigurd  rideth  to  the  Glittering  Heath, 

Again  on  the  morrow  morning  doth  Sigurd  the  Volsung  ride, 

And  Regin,  the  Master  of  Masters,  is  faring  by  his  side. 

And  they  leave  the  dwelling  of  kings  and  ride  the  summer  land, 

Until  at  the  eve  of  the  day  the  hills  are  on  either  hand : 

Then  they  wend  up  higher  and  higher,  and  over  the  heaths  they  fare 

Till  the  moon  shines  broad  on  the  midnight,  and  they  sleep  'neath  the 

heavens  bare ; 
And  they  waken  and  look  behind  them,  and  lo,  the  dawning  of  day 
And  the  little  land  of  the  Helper  and  its  valleys  far  away ; 
But  the  mountains  rise  before  them,  a  wall  exceeding  great. 

[gate , 
Then  spake  the  Master  of  Masters :  "  We  have  come  to  the  garth  and  the 
There  is  youth  and  rest  behind  thee  and  many  a  thing  to  do, 
There  is  many  a  fond  desire,  and  each  day  born  anew ; 
And  the  land  of  the  Volsungs  to  conquer,  and  many  a  people's  praise : 
And  for  me  there  is  rest  it  maybe,  and  the  peaceful  end  of  days. 
We  have  come  to  the  garth  and  the  gate  j  to  the  hall-door  now  shall  we  win, , 
Shall  we  go  to  look  on  the  high-seat  and  see  what  sitteth  therein  ? " 

"  Yea  and  what  else  ?  "  said  Sigurd,  "  was  thy  tale  but  mockeries 
And  have  I  been  drifted  hither  on  a  wind  of  empty  lies  ?  " 

"It  was  sooth,  it  was  sooth,"  said  Regin,  "and  more  might  I  have  told 
Had  I  heart  and  space  to  remember  the  deeds  of  the  days  of  old." 

And  he  hung  down  his  head  as  he  spake  it,  and  was  silent  a  little  space ; 


ii6  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  when  it  was  lifted  again  there  was  fear  in  the  Dwarf-king's  face. 

And  he  said :  "  Thou  knowest  my  thought,  and  wise-hearted  art  thou  grown : 

It  were  well  if  thine  eyes  were  blinder,  and  we  each  were  faring  alone, 

And  I  with  my  eld  and  my  wisdom,  and  thou  with  thy  youth  and  thy  might ; 

Yet  whiles  I  dream  I  have  wrought  thee,  a  beam  of  the  morning  bright, 

A  fatherless  motherless  glory,  to  work  out  my  desire ; 

Then  high  my  hope  ariseth,  and  my  heart  is  all  afire 

For  the  world  I  behold  from  afar,  and  the  day  that  yet  shall  be ; 

Then  I  wake  and  all  things  I  remember  and  a  youth  of  the  Kings  I  see  — 

—  The  child  of  the  Wood-abider,  the  seed  of  a  conquered  King, 

The  sword  that  the  Gods  have  fashioned,  the  fate  that  men  shall  sing :  — 

Ah  might  the  world  run  backward  to  the  days  of  the  Dwarfs  of  old. 

When  I  hewed  out  the  pillars  of  crystal,  and  smoothed  the  walls  of  gold ! " 

Nought  answered  the  Son  of  Sigmund ;  nay  he  heard  him  nought  at  all, 
Save  as  though  the  wind  were  speaking  in  the  bights  of  the  mountain-hall : 
But  he  leapt  aback  of  Greyfell,  and  the  glorious  sun  rose  up. 
And  the  heavens  glowed  above  him  like  the  bowl  of  Baldur's  cup. 
And  a  golden  man  was  he  waxen ;  as  the  heart  of  the  sun  he  seemed. 
While  over  the  feet  of  the  mountains  like  blood  the  new  light  streamed ; 
Then  Sigurd  cried  to  Greyfell  and  swift  for  the  pass  he  rode 
And  Regin  followed  after  as  a  man  bowed  down  by  a  load. 

Day-long  they  fared  through  the  mountains,  and  that  highway's  fashioner 
Forsooth  was  a  fearful  craftsman,  and  his  hands  the  waters  were, 
And  the  heaped-up  ice  was  his  mattock,  and  the  fire-blast  was  his  man, 
And  never  a  whit  he  heeded  though  his  walls  were  waste  and  wan, 
And  the  guest-halls  of  that  wayside  great  heaps  of  the  ashes  spent. 
But,  each  as  a  man  alone,  through  the  sun-bright  day  they  went. 
And  they  rode  till  the  moon  rose  upward,  and  the  stars  were  small  and  fair 
Then  they  slept  on  the  long-slaked  ashes  beneath  the  heavens  bare ; 
And  the  cold  dawn  came  and  they  wakened,  and  the  King  of  the  Dwarf 
kind  seemed 


BOOK    II.     REGIN.  117 

As  a  thing  of  that  wan  land  fashioned ;  But  Sigurd  glowed  and  gleamed 

Amid  the  shadowless  twilight  by  Greyfell's  cloudy  flank, 

As  a  little  space  they  abided  while  the  latest  star-world  shrank  j 

On  the  backward  road  looked  Regin  and  heard  how  Sigurd  drew 

The  girths  of  Greyfell's  saddle,  and  the  voice  of  his  sword  he  knew 

And  he  feared  to  look  on  the  Volsung,  as  thus  he  fell  to  speak : 

"  I  have  seen  the  Dwarf-folk  mighty,  I  have  seen  the  God-folk  weak ; 
And  now,  though  our  might  be  minished,  yet  have  we  gifts  to  give. 
When  men  desire  and  conquer,  most  sweet  is  their  life  to  live ; 
When  men  are  young  and  lovely  there  is  many  a  thing  to  do, 
And  sweet  is  their  fond  desire  and  the  dawn  that  springs  anew." 

"This  gift,"  said  the  son  of  Sigmund,  "the  Norns  shall  give  me  yet, 
And  no  blossom  slain  by  the  sunshine  while  the  leaves  with  dew  are  wet." 

Then  Regin  turned  and  beheld  him  :  "  Thou  shalt  deem  it  hard  and  strange, 
When  the  hand  hath  encompassed  it  all,  and  yet  thy  life  must  change. 
Ah,  long  were  the  lives  of  men-folk,  if  betwixt  the  Gods  and  them 
Were  mighty  warders  watching  mid  the  earth's  and  the  heaven's  hem ! 
Is  there  any  man  so  mighty  he  would  cast  this  gift  away,  — 
The  heart's  desire  accomplished,  and  life  so  long  a  day, 
That  the  dawn  should  be  forgotten  ere  the  even  was  begun  ? " 

Then  Sigurd  laughed  and  answered :  "  Fare  forth  O  glorious  sun ; 

Bright  end  from  bright  beginning,  and  the  mid-way  good  to  tell, 

And  death,  and  deeds  accomplished,  and  all  remembered  well ! 

Shall  the  day  go  past  and  leave  us,  and  we  be  left  with  night, 

To  tread  the  endless  circle,  and  strive  in  vain  to  smite  ? 

But  thou — wilt  thou  still  look  backward  ?  thou  sayest  I  know  thy  thought: 

Thou  hast  whetted  the  sword  for  the  slaying,  it  shall  turn  aside  for  nought. 

Fear  not !  with  the  Gold  and  the  wisdom  thou  shalt  deem  thee  God  alone, 

And  mayst  do  and  undo  at  pleasure,  nor  be  bound  by  right  nor  wrong : 


ii8  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  then,  if  no  God  I  be  waxen,  I  shall  be  the  weak  with  the  strong.*' 

And  his  war-gear  clanged  and  tinkled  as  he  leapt  to  the  saddle-stead : 

And  the  sun  rose  up  at  their  backs  and  the  grey  world  changed  to  red, 

And  away  to  the  west  went  Sigurd  by  the  glory  wreathed  about. 

But  little  and  black  was  Regin  as  a  fire  that  dieth  out. 

Day-long  they  rode  the  mountains  by  the  crags  exceeding  old, 

And  the  ash  that  the  first  of  the  Dwarf-kind  found  dull  and  quenched  and  cold 

Then  the  moon  in  the  mid-sky  swam,  and  the  stars  were  fair  and  pale. 

And  beneath  the  naked  heaven  they  slept  in  an  ash-grey  dale ; 

And  again  at  the  dawn-dusk's  ending  they  stood  upon  their  feet. 

And  Sigurd  donned  his  war-gear  nor  his  eyes  would  Regin  meet. 

A  clear  streak  widened  in  heaven  low  down  above  the  earth ; 
And  above  it  lay  the  cloud-flecks,  and  the  sun,  anigh  its  birth, 
Unseen,  their  hosts  was  staining  with  the  very  hue  of  blood. 
And  ruddy  by  Greyfell's  shoulder  the  Son  of  Sigmund  stood. 

Then  spake  the  Master  of  Masters :  "  What  is  thine  hope  this  morn 
That  thou  dightest  thee,  O  Sigurd,  to  ride  this  world  forlorn  ? " 

"  What  needeth  hope,"  said  Sigurd,  "  when  the  heart  of  the  Volsungs  turns 
To  the  light  of  the  Glittering  Heath,  and  the  house  where  the  Waster  burns  ? 
I  shall  slay  the  Foe  of  the  Gods,  as  thou  badst  me  a  while  agone. 
And  then  with  the  Gold  and  its  wisdom  shalt  thou  be  left  alone." 

[round 
"O  Child,"  said  the  King  of  the  Dwarf-kind,  "when  the  day  at  last  comes 
For  the  dread  and  the  Dusk  of  the  Gods,  and  the  kin  of  the  Wolf  is  unbound, 
When  thy  sword  shall  hew  the  fire,  and  the  wildfire  beateth  thy  shield, 
Shalt  thou  praise  the  wages  of  hope  and  the  Gods  that  pitched  the  field  ?  * 

"  O  Foe  of  the  Gods,"  said  Sigurd,  "  wouldst  thou  hide  the  evil  thing, 
And  the  curse  that  is  greater  than  thou,  lest  death  end  thy  labouring, 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  119 

Lest  the  night  should  come  upon  thee  amidst  thy  toil  for  nought  ? 

It  is  me,  it  is  me  that  thou  fearest,  if  indeed  I  know  thy  thought ; 

Yea  me,  who  would  utterly  light  the  face  of  all  good  and  ill, 

If  not  with  the  fruitful  beams  that  the  summer  shall  fulfill. 

Then  at  least  with  the  world  a-blazing,  and  the  glare  of  the  grinded  sword/' 

And  he  sprang  aloft  to  the  saddle  as  he  spake  the  latest  word. 
And  the  Wrath  sang  loud  in  the  sheath  as  it  ne'er  had  sung  before, 
And  the  cloudy  flecks  were  scattered  like  flames  on  the  heaven's  floor, 
And  all  was  kindled  at  once,  and  that  trench  of  the  mountains  grey 
Was  filled  with  the  living  light  as  the  low  sun  lit  the  way : 
But  Regin  turned  from  the  glory  with  blinded  eyes  and  dazed. 
And  lo,  on  the  cloudy  war-steed  how  another  light  there  blazed, 
And  a  great  voice  came  from  amidst  it : 

"  O  Regin,  in  good  sooth, 
I  have  hearkened  not  nor  heeded  the  words  of  thy  fear  and  thy  ruth : 
Thou  hast  told  thy  tale  and  thy  longing,  and  thereto  I  hearkened  well : — 
Let  it  lead  thee  up  to  heaven,  let  it  lead  thee  down  to  hell. 
The  deed  shall  be  done  tomorrow :  thou  shalt  have  that  measureless  Gold 
And  devour  the  garnered  wisdom  that  blessed  thy  realm  of  old. 
That  hath  lain  unspent  and  begrudged  in  the  very  heart  of  hate : 
With  the  blood  and  the  might  of  thy  brother  thine  hunger  shalt  thou  sate ; 
And  this  deed  shall  be  mine  and  thine ;  but  take  heed  for  what  followeth  then ! 
Let  each  do  after  his  kind  !  I  shall  do  the  deeds  of  men ;  [sleep  j 

I  shall  harvest  the  field  of  their  sowing,  in  the  bed  of  their  strewing  shall 
To  them  shall  I  give  my  life-days,  to  the  Gods  my  glory  to  keep,     [praise, 
But  thou  with  the  wealth  and  the  wisdom  that  the  best  of  the  Gods  might 
If  thou  shalt  indeed  excel  them  and  become  the  hope  of  the  days, 
Then  me  in  turn  hast  thou  conquered,  and  I  shall  be  in  turn 
Thy  fashioned  brand  of  the  battle  through  good  and  evil  to  burn. 
Or  the  flame  that  sleeps  in  thy  stithy  for  the  gathered  winds  to  blow, 
When  thou  listest  to  do  and  undo  and  thine  uttermost  cunning  to  show. 
But  indeed  I  wot  full  surely  that  thou  shalt  follow  thy  kind ; 


120  THE  STORY  OF  SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  for  all  that  cometh  after,  the  Noriis  shall  loose  and  bind." 

Then  his  bridle-reins  rang  sweetly,  and  the  warding-walls  of  death, 
And  Regin  drew  up  to  him,  and  the  Wrath  sang  loud  in  the  sheath, 
And  forth  from  that  trench  in  the  mountains  by  the  westward  way  they  ride  ^ 
And  little  and  black  goes  Regin  by  the  golden  Volsung's  side ; 
But  no  more  his  head  is  drooping,  for  he  seeth  the  Elf-king's  Gold ; 
The  garnered  might  and  the  wisdom  e'en  now  his  eyes  behold. 

So  up  and  up  they  journeyed,  and  ever  as  they  went 

About  the  cold-slaked  forges,  o'er  many  a  cloud-swept  bent. 

Betwixt  the  walls  of  blackness,  by  shores  of  the  Ashless  meres, 

And  the  fathomless  desert  waters,  did  Regin  cast  his  fears. 

And  wrap  him  in  desire ;  and  all  alone  he  seemed 

As  a  God  to  his  heirship  wending,  and  forgotten  and  undreamed 

Was  all  the  tale  of  Sigurd,  and  the  folk  he  had  toiled  among, 

And  the  Volsungs,  Odin's  children,  and  the  men-folk  fair  and  young. 

So  on  they  ride  to  the  westward,  and  huge  were  the  mountains  grown 

And  the  floor  of  heaven  was  mingled  with  that  tossing  world  of  stone : 

And  they  rode  till  the  noon  was  forgotten  and  the  sun  was  waxen  low. 

And  they  tarried  not,  though  he  perished,  and  the  world  grew  dark  below. 

Then  they  rode  a  mighty  desert,  a  glimmering  place  and  wide. 

And  into  a  narrow  pass  high-walled  on  either  side 

By  the  blackness  of  the  mountains,  and  barred  aback  and  in  face 

By  the  empty  night  of  the  shadow ;  a  windless  silent  place : 

But  the  white  moon  shone  o'erhead  mid  the  small  sharp  stars  and  pale, 

And  each  as  a  man  alone  they  rode  on  the  highway  of  bale. 

So  ever  they  wended  upward,  and  the  midnight  hour  was  o'er, 
And  the  stars  grew  pale  and  paler,  and  failed  from  the  heaven's  floor. 
And  the  moon  was  a  long  while  dead,  but  where  was  the  promise  of  day  ? 
No  change  came  over  the  darkness,  no  streak  of  the  dawning  grey ; 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  i2i 

No  sound  of  the  wind's  uprising  adown  the  night  there  ran : 

It  was  blind  as  the  Gaping  Gulf  ere  the  first  of  the  worlds  began. 

Then  athwart  and  athwart  rode  Sigurd  and  sought  the  walls  of  the  pass, 
But  found  no  wall  before  him ;  and  the  road  rang  hard  as  brass 
Beneath  the  hoofs  of  Greyfell,  as  up  and  up  he  trod : 
—  Was  it  the  daylight  of  Hell,  or  the  night  of  the  doorway  of  God  ? 

But  lo,  at  the  last  a  glimmer,  and  a  light  from  the  west  there  came, 

And  another  and  another,  like  points  of  far-off  flame ; 

And  they  grew  and  brightened  and  gathered ;  and  whiles  together  they  ran 

Like  the  moonwake  over  the  waters ;  and  whiles  they  were  scant  and  wan, 

Some  greater  and  some  lesser,  like  the  boats  of  fishers  laid 

About  the  sea  of  midnight ;  and  a  dusky  dawn  they  made, 

A  faint  and  glimmering  twilight :  So  Sigurd  strains  his  eyes, 

And  he  sees  how  a  land  deserted  all  round  about  him  lies 

More  changeless  than  mid-ocean,  as  fruitless  as  its  floor  : 

Then  the  heart  leaps  up  within  him,  for  he  knows  that  his  journey  is  o'er, 

And  there  he  draweth  bridle  on  the  first  of  the  Glittering  Heath : 

And  the  Wrath  is  waxen  merry  and  sings  in  the  golden  sheath 

As  he  leaps  adown  from  Greyfell,  and  stands  upon  his  feet, 

And  wends  his  ways  through  the  twilight  the  Foe  of  the  Gods  to  meet 


Sigurd  slayeth  Fafnir  the  Serpent, 

Nought  Sigurd  seeth  of  Regin,  and  nought  he  heeds  of  him. 
As  in  watchful  might  and  glory  he  strides  the  desert  dim, 
And  behind  him  paceth  Greyfell ;  but  he  deems  the  time  o'erlong 
Till  he  meet  the  great  gold-warden,  the  over-lord  of  wrong. 

So  he  wendeth  midst  the  silence  through  the  measureless  desert  place, 
And  beholds  the  countless  glitter  with  wise  and  steadfast  face, 


122  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Till  him-seems  in  a  little  season  that  the  flames  grown  somewhat  wan, 

And  a  grey  thing  glimmers  before  him,  and  becomes  a  mighty  man, 

One-eyed  and  ancient-seeming,  in  cloud-grey  raiment  clad ; 

A  friendly  man  and  glorious,  and  of  visage  smiling-glad : 

Then  content  in  Sigurd  groweth  because  of  his  majesty, 

And  he  heareth  him  speak  in  the  desert  as  the  wind  of  the  winter  sea : 

"  Hail  Sigurd  !  Give  me  thy  greeting  ere  thy  ways  alone  thou  wend  !  " 

Said  Sigurd:  "  Hail !  I  greet  thee,  my  friend  and  my  fathers'  friend." 

[Sword  ? ' 
"Now  whither  away,"  said  the  elder,  "with  the  Steed  and  the  ancient 

"To  the  greedy  house,"  said  Sigurd,  "  and  the  King  of  the  Heavy  Hoard." 

"  Wilt  thou  smite,  O  Sigurd,  Sigurd  ?  "  said  the  ancient  mighty-one. 

[sun." 
"Yea,  yea,  I  shall  smite,"  said  the  Volsung,  "save  the  Gods  have  slain  the 

"  What  wise  wilt  thou  smite,"  said  the  elder,  "  lest  the  dark  devour  thy  day  ? " 

[way." 
"  Thou  has  praised  the  sword,"  said  the  child,  "  and  the  sword  shall  find  a 

"  Be  learned  of  me,"  said  the  Wise-one,  "  for  I  was  the  first  of  thy  folk." 

Said  the  child :  "  I  shall  do  thy  bidding,  and  for  thee  shall  I  strike  the  stroke." 

Spake  the  Wise-one  :  "  Thus  shalt  thou  do  when  thou  wendest  hence  alone  : 

Thou  shalt  find  a  path  in  the  desert,  and  a  road  in  the  world  of  stone ; 

It  is  smooth  and  deep  and  hollow,  but  the  rain  hath  riven  it  not. 

And  the  wild  wind  hath  not  worn  it,  for  it  is  but  Fafnir's  slot, 

Whereby  he  wends  to  the  water  and  the  fathomless  pool  of  old, 

When  his  heart  in  the  dawn  is  weary,  and  he  loathes  the  Ancient  Gold : 


BOOK    II.     REGIN.  123 

There  think  of  the  great  and  the  fathers,  and  bare  the  whetted  Wrath, 
And  dig  a  pit  in  the  highway,  and  a  grave  in  the  Serpent's  path : 
Lie  thou  therein,  O  Sigurd,  and  thine  hope  from  the  glooming  hide. 
And  be  as  the  dead  for  a  season,  and  the  living  light  abide  ! 
And  so  shall  thine  heart  avail  thee,  and  thy  mighty  fateful  hand, 
And  the  Light  that  lay  in  the  Branstock,  the  well-belovbd  brand." 

Said  the  child  :  "  I  shall  do  thy  bidding,  and  for  thee  shall  I  strike  the  stroke  j 
For  I  love  thee,  friend  of  my  fathers,  Wise  Heart  of  the  holy  folk." 

So  spake  the  Son  of  Sigmund,  and  beheld  no  man  anear, 

And  again  was  the  night  the  midnight,  and  the  twinkling  flames  shone  clear 

In  the  hush  of  the  Glittering  Heath ;  and  alone  went  Sigmund's  son 

Till  he  came  to  the  road  of  Fafnir,  and  the  highway  worn  by  one. 

By  the  drift  of  the  rain  unfurrowed,  by  the  windy  years  unrent. 

And  forth  from  the  dark  it  came,  and  into  the  dark  it  went. 

Great  then  was  the  heart  of  Sigurd,  for  there  in  the  midmost  he  stayed, 
And  thought  of  the  ancient  fathers,  and  bared  the  bright  blue  blade. 
That  shone  as  a  fleck  of  the  day-light,  and  the  night  was  all  around. 
Fair  then  was  the  Son  of  Sigmund  as  he  toiled  and  laboured  the  ground  j 
Great,  mighty  he  was  in  his  working,  and  the  Glittering  Heath  he  clave, 
And  the  sword  shone  blue  before  him  as  he  dug  the  pit  and  the  grave : 
There  he  hid  his  hope  from  the  night-tide  and  lay  like  one  of  the  dead. 
And  wise  and  wary  he  bided ;  and  the  heavens  hung  over  his  head. 

Now  the  night  wanes  over  Sigurd,  and  the  ruddy  rings  he  sees. 
And  his  war-gear's  fair  adornment,  and  the  God-folk's  images ; 
But  a  voice  in  the  desert  ariseth,  a  sound  in  the  waste  has  birth, 
A  changing  tinkle  and  clatter,  as  of  gold  dragged  over  the  earth  : 
O'er  Sigurd  widens  the  day-light,  and  the  sound  is  drawing  close, 
And  speedier  than  the  trample  of  speedy  feet  it  goes ; 
But  ever  deemeth  Sigurd  that  the  sun  brings  back  the  day, 


124  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

For  the  grave  grows  lighter  and  lighter  and  heaven  o'er  head  is  grey. 

But  now,  how  the  rattling  waxeth  till  he  may  not  heed  nor  hark ! 
And  the  day  and  the  heavens  are  hidden,  and  o'er  Sigurd  rolls  the  dark, 
As  the  flood  of  a  pitchy  river,  and  heavy-thick  is  the  air 
With  the  venom  of  hate  long  hoarded,  and  lies  once  fashioned  fair : 
Then  a  wan  face  comes  from  the  darkness,  and  is  wrought  in  manlike  wise, 
And  the  lips  are  writhed  with  laughter  and  bleared  are  the  blinded  eyes  ; 
And  it  wandereth  hither  and  thither,  and  searcheth  through  the  grave 
And  departeth,  leaving  nothing,  save  the  dark,  rolled  wave  on  wave 
O'er  the  golden  head  of  Sigurd  and  the  edges  of  the  sword. 
And  the  world  weighs  heavy  on  Sigurd,  and  the  weary  curse  of  the  Hoard : 
Him-seemed  the  grave  grew  straiter,  and  his  hope  of  life  grew  chill, 
And  his  heart  by  the  Worm  was  enfolded,  and  the  bonds  of  the  Ancient  111. 

[Death ; 
Then  was  Sigurd  stirred  by  his  glory,  and  he  strove  with  the  swaddling  of 
He  turned  in  the.pit  on  the  highway,  and  the  grave  of  the  Glittering  Heath ; 
He  laughed  and  smote  with  the  laughter  and  thrust  up  over  his  head. 
And  smote  the  venom  asunder,  and  clave  the  heart  of  Dread ; 
Then  he  leapt  from  the  pit  and  the  grave,  and  the  rushing  river  of  blood, 
And  fulfilled  with  the  joy  of  the  War-God  on  the  face  of  earth  he  stood 
With  red  sword  high  uplifted,  with  wrathful  glittering  eyes ; 
And  he  laughed  at  the  heavens  above  him  for  he  saw  the  sun  arise. 
And  Sigurd  gleamed  on  the  desert,  and  shone  in  the  new-born  light. 
And  the  wind  in  his  raiment  wavered,  and  all  the  world  was  bright. 

But  there  was  the  ancient  Fafnir,  and  the  Face  of  Terror  lay 
On  the  huddled  folds  of  the  Serpent,  that  were  black  and  ashen-grey 
In  the  desert  lit  by  the  sun ;  and  those  twain  looked  each  on  each. 
And  forth  from  the  Face  of  Terror  went  a  sound  of  dreadful  speech : 

"  Child,  child,  who  art  thou  that  hast  smitten  ?  bright  child,  of  whence  is 
thy  birth?" 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  125 

"  I  am  called  the  Wild-thing  Glorious,  and  alone  I  wend  on  the  earth." 

[Foe  ! " 
"  Fierce  child,  and  who  was  thy  father  ? — Thou  hast  cleft  the  heart  of  the 

"Am  I  like  to  the  sons  of  men-folk,  that  my  father  I  should  know?  " 

[cling?" 
"Wert  thou  born  of  a  nameless  wonder?  shall  the  lies  to  my  death-day 

"How  lieth  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  and  the  Son  of  Sigmund  the  King?" 

"  O  bitter  father  of  Sigurd  !  —  thou  hast  cleft  mine  heart  atwain ! " 

"I  arose,  and  I  wondered  and  wended,  and  I  smote,  and  I  smote  not  in  vain." 

[day." 
"What  master  hath  taught  thee  of  murder?  —  Thou  hast  wasted  Fafnir'# 

"  I,  Sigurd,  knew  and  desired,  and  the  bright  sword  learned  the  way." 

"Thee,  thee  shall  the  rattling  Gold  and  the  red  rings  bring  to  the  bane." 

"Yet  mine  hand  shall  cast  them  abroad,  and  the  earth  shall  gather  again." 

"  I  see  thee  great  in  thine  anger,  and  the  Norns  thou  heedest  not." 

"  O  Fafnir,  speak  of  the  Norns  and  the  wisdom  unforgot ! " 

[shall  drown." 
"  Let  the  death-doomed  flee  from  the  ocean,  him  the  wind  and  the  weather 

"  O  Fafnir,  tell  of  the  Norns  ere  thy  life  thou  layest  adown !  " 

"  O  manifold  is  their  kindred,  and  who  shall  tell  them  all  ? 

There  are  they  that  rule  o'er  men-folk  and  the  stars  that  rise  and  fall : 

—  I  knew  of  the  folk  of  the  Dwarfs,  and  I  knew  their  Norns  of  old ; 


126  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

And  I  fought,  and  I  fell  in  the  morning,  and  I  die  afar  from  the  gold : 
—  I  have  seen  the  Gods  of  heaven,  and  their  Norns  withal  I  know : 
They  love  and  withhold  their  helping,  they  hate  and  refrain  the  blow ; 
They  curse  and  they  may  not  sunder,  they  bless  and  they  shall  not  blend  ; 
They  have  fashioned  the  good  and  the  evil ;  they  abide  the  change  and  the 

[end." 
"  O  Fafnir,  what  of  the  Isle,  and  what  hast  thou  known  of  its  name. 
Where  the  Gods  shall  mingle  edges  with  Surt  and  the  Sons  of  the  Flame  ? " 

"  O  child,  O  Strong  Compeller !     Unshapen  is  it  hight ;  [smite, 

There  the  fallow  blades  shall  be  shaken  and  the  Dark  and  the  Day  shall 
When  the  Bridge  of  the  Gods  is  broken,  and  their  white  steeds  swim  the  sea, 
And  the  uttermost  field  is  stricken,  last  strife  of  thee  and  me." 

"  What  then  shall  endure,  O  Fafnir,  the  tale  of  the  battle  to  tell  ? " 

**  I  am  blind,  O  Strong  Compeller,  in  the  bonds  of  Death  and  Hell. 
But  thee  shall  the  rattling  Gold  and  the  red  rings  bring  unto  bane." 

"  Yet  the  rings  mine  hand  shall  scatter,  and  the  earth  shall  gather  again.' 

"  Woe,  woe  !  in  the  days  passed  over  I  bore  the  Helm  of  Dread, 

I  reared  the  Face  of  Terror,  and  the  hoarded  hate  of  the  Dead : 

I  overcame  and  was  mighty;  I  was  wise  and  cherished  my  heart 

In  the  waste  where  no  man  wandered,  and  the  high  house  builded  apart : 

Till  I  met  thine  hand,  O  Sigurd,  and  thy  might  ordained  from  of  old ; 

And  I  fought  and  fell  in  the  morning,  and  I  die  far  off  from  the  Gold." 

Then  Sigurd  leaned  on  his  sword,  and  a  dreadful  voice  went  by 
Like  the  wail  of  a  God  departing  and  the  War-God's  misery ; 
And  strong  words  of  ancient  wisdom  went  by  on  the  desert  wind. 
The  words  that  mar  and  fashion,  the  words  that  loose  and  bind ; 
And  sounds  of  a  strange  lamenting,  and  such  strange  things  bewailed, 


BOOK  II.    REGIN.  127 

That  words  to  tell  their  meaning  the  tongue  of  man  hath  failed. 

Then  all  sank  into  silence,  and  the  Son  of  Sigmund  stood 

On  the  torn  and  furrowed  desert  by  the  pool  of  Fafnir's  blood, 

And  the  Serpent  lay  before  him,  dead,  chilly,  dull,  and  grey ; 

And  over  the  Glittering  Heath  fair  shone  the  sun  and  the  day, 

And  a  light  wind  followed  the  sun  and  breathed  o'er  the  fateful  place, 

As  fresh  as  it  furrows  the  sea-plain  or  bows  the  acres'  face. 

Sigurd  slayeth  Regin  the  Master  of  Masters  on  the  Glittering  Heath, 

^here  standeth  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  and  leaneth  on  his  sword, 
And  beside  him  now  is  Greyfell  and  looks  on  his  golden  lord, 
And  the  world  is  awake  and  living ;  and  whither  now  shall  they  wend. 
Who  have  come  to  the  Glittering  Heath,  and  wrought  that  deed  to  its  end  i 
For  hither  comes  Regin  the  Master  from  the  skirts  of  the  field  of  death. 
And  he  shadeth  his  eyes  from  the  sunlight  as  afoot  he  goeth  and  saith : 
"  Ah,  let  me  live  for  a  while !  for  a  while  and  all  shall  be  well, 
When  passed  'is  the  house  of  murder  and  I  creep  from  the  prison  of  hell." 

Afoot  he  went  o'er  the  desert,  and  he  came  unto  Sigurd  and  stared 
At  the  golden  gear  of  the  man,  and  the  Wrath  yet  bloody  and  bared. 
And  the  light  locks  raised  by  the  wind,  and  the  eyes  beginning  to  smile, 
And  the  lovely  lips  of  the  Volsung,  and  the  brow  that  knew  no  guile ; 
And  he  murmured  under  his  breath  while  his  eyes  grew  white  with  wrath : 
"  C  who  art  thou,  and  wherefore,  and  why  art  thou  in  the  path  ?  " 

Then  he  turned  to  the  ash-grey  Serpent,  and  grovelled  low  on  the  ground, 
And  he  drank  of  that  pool  of  the  blood  where  the  stones  of  the  wild  were 
And  long  he  lapped  as  a  dog ;  but  when  he  arose  again,  [drowred, 

Lo,  a  flock  of  the  mountain-eagles  that  drew  to  the  feastful  plain ; 
And  he  turned  and  looked  on  Sigurd,  as  bright  in  the  sun  he  stood. 


128  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

A  stripling  fair  and  slender,  and  wiped  the  Wrath  of  the  blood. 

But  Regin  cried  :  "  O  Dwarf -kind,  O  many-shifting  folk, 

0  shapes  of  might  aiid  wonder,  am  I  too  freed  from  the  yoke, 
That  binds  my  soul  to  my  body  a  withered  thing  forlorn, 
While  the  short-lived  fools  of  man-folk  so  fair  and  oft  are  born  ? 
Now  swift  in  the  air  shall  I  be,  and  young  in  the  concourse  of  kings, 
If  my  heart  shall  come  to  desire  the  gain  of  earthly  things." 

And  he  looked  and  saw  how  Sigurd  was  sheathing  the  Flame  of  War, 
And  the  eagles  screamed  in  the  wind,  but  their  voice  came  faint  from  afar 
Then  he  scowled,  and  crouched  and  darkened, and  came  to  Sigurd  and  spake : 
"  O  child,  thou  hast  slain  my  brother,  and  the  Wrath  is  alive  and  awake." 

"  Thou  sayest  sooth,"  said  Sigurd,  "  thy  deed  and  mine  is  done : 
But  now  our  ways  shall  sunder,  for  here,  meseemeth,  the  sun 
Hath  but  little  of  deeds  to  do,  and  no  love  to  win  aback." 

Then  Regin  crouched  before  him,  and  he  spake  :  "  Fare  on  to  the  wrack ! 
Fare  on  to  the  murder  of  men,  and  the  deeds  of  thy  kindred  of  old ! 
And  surely  of  thee  as  of  them  shall  the  tale  be  speedily  told. 
Thou  hast  slain  thy  Master's  brother,  and  what  wouldst  thou  say  thereto, 
Were  the  judges  met  for  the  judging  and  the  doom-ring  hallowed  due  ? " 

Then  Sigurd  spake  as  aforetime :  "  Thy  deed  and  mine  it  was. 
And  now  our  ways  shall  sunder,  and  into  the  world  will  I  pass." 

But  Regin  darkened  before  him,  and  exceeding  grim  was  he  grown. 

And  he  spake:  "  Thou  hast  slain  my  brother,  and  wherewith  wilt  thou  atone  ?  '* 

"  Stand  up,  O  Master,"  said  Sigurd,  "  O  Singer  of  ancient  days. 

And  take  the  wealth  I  have  won  thee,  ere  we  wend  on  the  sundering  ways 

1  have  toiled  and  thou  hast  desired,  and  the  Treasure  is  surely  anear, 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  129 

And  thou  hast  wisdom  to  find  it,  and  I  have  slain  thy  fear.*' 

But  Regin  crouched  and  darkened :  "  Thou  hast  slain  my  brother,"  he  said 

"Take  thou  the  Gold,"  quoth  Sigurd,  "for  the  ransom  of  my  head ! " 

Then  Regin  crouched  and  darkened,  and  over  the  earth  he  hung ; 

And  he  said  :  "  Thou  hast  slain  my  brother,  and  the  Gods  are  yet  but  young." 

Bright  Sigurd  towered  above  him,  and  the  Wrath  cried  out  in  the  sheath. 
And  Regin  writhed  against  it  as  the  adder  turns  on  death ;  [thrall : 

And  he  spake  :  "  Thou  hast  slain  my  brother,  and  today  shalt  thou  be  my 
Yea  a  King  shall  be  my  cook-boy  and  this  heath  my  cooking-hall." 

Then  he  crept  to  the  ash-grey  coils  where  the  life  of  his  brother  had  lain, 
And  he  drew  a  glaive  from  his  side  and  smote  the  smitten  and  slain, 
And  tore  the  heart  from  Fafnir,  while  the  eagles  cried  o'erhead, 
And  sharp  and  shrill  was  their  voice  o'er  the  entrails  of  the  dead. 

Then  Regin  spake  to  Sigurd  :  "Of  this  slaying  wilt  thou  be  free  ? 

Then  gather  thou  fire  together  and  roast  the  heart  for  me. 

That  I  may  eat  it  and  live,  and  be  thy  master  and  more ; 

For  therein  was  might  and  wisdom,  and  the  grudged  and  hoarded  lore :  — 

—  Or  else,  depart  on  thy  ways  afraid  from  the  Glittering  Heath." 

Then  he  fell  abackward  and  slept,  nor  set  his  sword  in  the  sheath. 

But  his  hand  was  red  on  the  hilts  and  blue  were  the  edges  bared. 

Ash-grey  was  his  visage  waxen,  and  with  open  eyes  he  stared 

On  the  height  of  heaven  above  him,  and  a  fearful  thing  he  seemed, 

As  his  soul  went  wide  in  the  world,  and  of  rule  and  kingship  he  dreamed 

But  Sigurd  took  the  Heart,  and  wood  on  the  waste  he  found. 
The  wood  that  grew  and  died,  as  it  crept  on  the  niggard  ground, 
9 


I30  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  grew  and  died  again,  and  lay  like  whitened  bones ; 

And  the  ernes  cried  over  his  head,  as  he  builded  his  hearth  of  stones, 

And  kindled  the  fire  for  cooking,  and  sat  and  sang  o'er  the  roast 

The  song  of  his  fathers  of  old,  and  the  Wolflings'  gathering  host : 

So  there  on  the  Glittering  Heath  rose  up  the  little  flame. 

And  the  dry  sticks  crackled  amidst  it,  and  alow  the  eagles  came, 

And  seven  they  were  by  tale,  and  they  pitched  all  round  about 

The  cooking-fire  of  Sigurd,  and  sent  their  song-speech  out : 

But  nought  he  knoweth  its  wisdom,  or  the  word  that  they  would  speak : 

And  hot  grew  the  heart  of  Fafnir  and  sang  amid  the  reek. 

Then  Sigurd  looketh  on  Regin,  and  he  deemeth  it  overlong  [wrong. 

That  he  dighteth  the  dear-bought  morsel,  and  the  might  for  the  Master  of 

So  he  reacheth  his  hand  to  the  roast  to  see  if  the  cooking  be  o'er ; 

But  the  blood  and  the  fat  seethed  from  it  and  scalded  his  finger  sore, 

And  he  set  his  hand  to  his  mouth  to  quench  the  fleshly  smart, 

And  he  tasted  the  flesh  of  the  Serpent  and  the  blood  of  Fafnir's  Heart : 

Then  there  came  a  change  upon  him,  for  the  speech  of  fowl  he  knew, 

And  wise  in  the  ways  of  the  beast-kind  as  the  Dwarfs  of  old  he  grew ; 

And  he  knitted  his  brows  and  hearkened,  and  wrath  in  his  heart  arose ; 

For  he  felt  beset  of  evil  in  a  world  of  many  foes. 

But  the  hilts  of  the  Wrath  he  handled,  and  Regin's  heart  he  saw. 

And  how  that  the  Foe  of  the  Gods  the  net  of  death  would  draw ; 

And  his  bright  eyes  flashed  and  sparkled,  and  his  mouth  grew  set  and  stern 

As  he  hearkened  the  voice  of  the  eagles,  and  their  song  began  to  learn. 

For  the  first  cried  out  in  the  desert :  "  O  mighty  Sigmund's  son. 
How  long  wilt  thou  sit  and  tarry  now  the  dear-bought  roast  is  done  ? " 

And  the  second :  "  Volsung,  arise  1  for  the  horns  blow  up  to  the  hall, 
And  dight  are  the  purple  hangings,  and  the  King  to  the  feasting  should  fall.'' 

A-nd  the  third ;  "  How  great  is  the  feast  if  the  eater  eat  arig^ht 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  131 

The  Heart  of  the  wisdom  of  old  and  the  after-world's  delight ! " 

And  the  fourth :  "  Yea  what  of  Regin  ?  shall  he  scatter  wrack  o'er  the  world  ? 
Shall  the  father  be  slain  by  the  son,  and  the  brother  'gainst  brother  be 

[hurled?" 
And  the  fifth :  "  He  hath  taught  a  stripling  the  gifts  of  a  God  to  give : 
He  hath  reared  up  a  King  for  the  slaying,  that  he  alone  might  live." 

And  the  sixth :  "  He  shall  waken  mighty  as  a  God  that  scorneth  at  truth ; 
He  hath  drunk  of  the  blood  of  the  Serpent,  and  drowned  all  hope  and  ruth.'' 

And  the  seventh :  "  Arise,  O  Sigurd,  lest  the  hour  be  overlate ! 

For  the  sun  in  the  mid-noon  shineth,  and  swift  is  the  hand  of  Fate : 

Arise  !  lest  the  world  run  backward  and  the  blind  heart  have  its  will, 

And  once  again  be  tangled  the  sundered  good  and  ill ; 

Lest  love  and  hatred  perish,  lest  the  world  forget  its  tale. 

And  the  Gods  sit  deedless,  dreaming,  in  the  high-walled  heavenly  vale." 

Then  swift  ariseth  Sigurd,  and  the  Wrath  in  his  hand  is  bare, 
And  he  looketh,  and  Regin  sleepeth,  and  his  eyes  wide-open  glare ; 
But  his  lips  smile  false  in  his  dreaming,  and  his  hand  is  on  the  sword ; 
For  he  dreams  himself  the  Master  and  the  new-world's  fashioning-lord. 
And  his  dream  hath  forgotten  Sigurd,  and  the  King's  life  lies  in  the  pit ; 
He  is  nought ;  Death  gnaweth  upon  him,  while  the  Dwarfs  in  mastery  sit. 

But  lo,  how  the  eyes  of  Sigurd  the  heart  of  the  guileful  behold, 

And  great  is  Allfather  Odin,  and  upriseth  the  Curse  of  the  Gold, 

And  the  Branstock  bloometh  to  heaven  from  the  ancient  wondrous  root ; 

The  summer  hath  shone  on  its  blossoms,  and  Sigurd's  Wrath  is  the  fruit : 

Dread  then  he  cried  in  the  desert :  "  Guile-master,  lo  thy  deed  ! 

Hast  thou  nurst  my  life  for  destruction,  and  my  death  to  serve  thy  need  ? 

Hast  thou  kept  me  here  for  the  net  and  the  death  that  tame  things  die } 

Hast  thou  feared  me  overmuch,  thou  Foe  of  the  Gods  on  high  ? 


132  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Lest  the  sword  thine  hand  was  wielding  should  turn  about  and  cleave 
The  tangled  web  of  nothing  thou  hadst  wearied  thyself  to  weave. 
Lo  here  the  sword  and  the  stroke !  judge  the  Norns  betwixt  us  twain  ! 
But  for  me,  I  will  live  and  die  not,  nor  shall  all  my  hope  be  vain." 

Then  his  second  stroke  struck  Sigurd,  for  the  Wrath  flashed  thin  and  white, 
And  'twixt  head  and  trunk  of  Regin  fierce  ran  the  fateful  light ; 
And  there  lay  brother  by  brother  a  faded  thing  and  wan. 
But  Sigurd  cried  in  the  desert :  "  So  far  have  I  wended  on  ! 
Dead  are  the  foes  of  God-home  that  would  blend  the  good  and  the  ill ; 
And  the  World  shall  yet  be  famous,  and  the  Gods  shall  have  their  will. 
Nor  shall  I  be  dead  and  forgotten,  while  the  earth  grows  worse  and  worse, 
With  the  blind  heart  king  o'er  the  people,  and  binding  curse  with  curse." 


How  Sigurd  took  to  him  the  Treasure  of  the  Elf  Andvari. 

Now  Sigurd  eats  of  the  heart  that  once  in  the  Dwarf-king  lay, 

The  hoard  of  the  wisdom  begrudged,  the  might  of  the  earlier  day. 

Then  wise  of  heart  was  he  waxen,  but  longing  in  him  grew 

To  sow  the  seed  he  had  gotten,  and  till  the  field  he  knew. 

So  he  leapeth  aback  of  Greyfell,  and  rideth  the  desert  bare, 

And  the  hollow  slot  of  Fafnir,  that  led  to  the  Serpent's  lair. 

Then  long  he  road  adown  it,  and  the  ernes  flew  overhead. 

And  tidings  great  and  glorious  of  that  Treasure  of  old  they  said. 

So  far  o'er  the  waste  he  wended,  and  when  the  night  was  come 

He  saw  the  earth-old  dwelling,  the  dread  Gold-wallower's  home : 

On  the  skirts  of  the  Heath  it  was  builded  by  a  tumbled  stony  bent ; 

High  went  that  house  to  the  heavens,  down  'neath  the  earth  it  went. 

Of  unwrought  iron  fashioned  for  the  heart  of  a  greedy  king : 

'Twas  a  mountain,  blind  without,  and  within  was  its  plenishing 

But  the  Hoard  of  Andvari  the  ancient,  and  the  sleeping  Curse  unseen, 

The  Gold  of  the  Gods  that  spared  not  and  the  greedy  that  have  been. 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  133 

Through  the  door  strode  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  and  the  grey  moon  and  the 

Fell  in  on  the  tawny  gold-heaps  of  the  ancient  hapless  Hoard :  [sword 

Gold  gear  of  hosts  unburied,  and  the  coin  of  cities  dead, 

Great  spoil  of  the  ages  of  battle,  lay  there  on  the  Serpent's  bed :     [mined, 

Huge  blocks  from  mid-earth  quarried,  where  none  but  the  Dwarfs  have 

Wide  sands  of  the  golden  rivers  no  foot  of  man  may  find 

Lay  'neath  the  spoils  of  the  mighty  and  the  ruddy  rings  of  yore  : 

But  amidst  was  the  Helm  of  Aweing  that  the  Fear  of  earth-folk  bore, 

And  there  gleamed  a  wonder  beside  it,  the  Hauberk  all  of  gold. 

Whose  like  is  not  in  the  heavens  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told : 

There  Sigurd  seeth  moreover  Andvari's  Ring  of  Gain, 

The  hope  of  Loki's  finger,  the  Ransom's  utmost  grain  j 

For  it  shone  on  the  midmost  gold-heap  like  the  first  star  set  in  the  sky 

In  the  yellow  space  of  even  when  moon-rise  draweth  anigh. 

Then  laughed  the  Son  of  Sigmund,  and  stooped  to  the  golden  land, 

And  gathered  that  first  of  the  harvest  and  set  it  on  his  hand  ; 

And  he  did  on  the  Helm  of  Aweing,  and  the  Hauberk  all  of  gold. 

Whose  like  is  not  in  the  heavens  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told  : 

Then  he  praised  the  day  of  the  Volsungs  amid  the  yellow  light. 

And  he  set  his  hand  to  the  labour  and  put  forth  his  kingly  might; 

He  dragged  forth  gold  to  the  moon,  on  the  desert's  face  he  laid 

The  innermost  earth's  adornment,  and  rings  for  the  nameless  made , 

He  toiled  and  loaded  Greyfell,  and  the  cloudy  war-steed  shone 

And  the  gear  of  Sigurd  rattled  in  the  flood  of  moonlight  wan ; 

There  he  toiled  and  loaded  Greyfell,  and  the  Volsung's  armour  rang 

Mid  the  yellow  bed  of  the  Serpent :  but  without  the  eagles  sang : 

"Bind  the  red  rings,  O  Sigurd  !  let  the  gold  shine  free  and  clear! 
For  what  hath  the  Son  of  the  Volsungs  the  ancient  Curse  to  fear  ?  " 

•*  Bind  the  red  rings,  O  Sigurd !  for  thy  tale  is  well  begun. 

And  the  world  shall  be  good  and  gladdened  by  the  Gold  lit  up  by  the  sun.  ^ 


134  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG 

"  Bind  the  red  rings,  O  Sigurd,  and  gladden  all  thine  heart ! 
For  the  world  shall  make  thee  merry  ere  thou  and  she  depart." 

"  Bind  the  red  rings,  O  Sigurd !  for  the  ways  go  green  below, 

Go  green  to  the  dwelling  of  Kings,  and  the  halls  that  the  Queen-folk  know/ 

"  Bind  the  red  rings,  O  Sigurd !  for  what  is  there  bides  by  the  way, 
Save  the  joy  of  folk  to  awaken,  and  the  dawn  of  the  merry  day  ? " 

"  Bind  the  red  rings,  O  Sigurd !  for  the  strife  awaits  thine  hand, 
And  a  plenteous  war-field's  reaping,  and  the  praise  of  many  a  land." 

"  Bind  the  red  rings,  O  Sigurd  !     But  how  shall  storehouse  hold 
That  glory  of  thy  winning  and  the  tidings  to  be  told  ?  " 

[plain, 
Now  the  moon  was  dead,  and  the  star-worlds  were  great  on  the  heavenly 
When  the  steed  was  fully  laden ;  then  Sigurd  taketh  the  rein 
And  turns  to  the  ruined  rock-wall  that  the  lair  was  built  beneath, 
For  there  he  deemed  was  the  gate  and  the  door  of  the  Glittering  Heath, 
But  not  a  whit  moved  Greyfell  for  aught  that  the  King  might  do ; 
Then  Sigurd  pondered  a  while,  till  the  heart  of  the  beast  he  knew, 
And  clad  in  all  his  war-gear  he  leaped  to  the  saddle-stead, 
And  with  pride  and  mirth  neighed  Greyfell  and  tossed  aloft  his  head, 
And  sprang  unspurred  o'er  the  waste,  and  light  and  swift  he  went, 
And  breasted  the  broken  rampart,  the  stony  tumbled  bent ; 
And  over  the  brow  he  clomb,  and  there  beyond  was  the  world, 
A  place  of  many  mountains  and  great  crags  together  hurled. 
So  down  to  the  west  he  wendeth,  and  goeth  swift  and  light, 
And  the  stars  are  beginning  to  wane,  and  the  day  is  mingled  with  night ; 
For  full  fane  was  the  sun  to  arise  and  look  on  the  Gold  set  free, 
And  the  Dwarf-wrought  rings  of  the  Treasure  and  the  gifts  from  the  floor  of 
the  sea. 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  135 

How  Sigurd  awoke  Brynhild  upon  Hindfell, 

By  long  roads  rideth  Sigurd  amidst  that  world  of  stone, 

And  somewhat  south  he  turneth ;  for  he  would  not  be  alone, 

But  longs  for  the  dwellings  of  man-folk,  and  the  kingly  people's  speech, 

And  the  days  of  the  glee  and  the  joyance,  where  men  laugh  each  to  each 

But  still  the  desert  endureth,  and  afar  must  Greyfell  fare 

From  the  wrack  of  the  Glittering  Heath,  and  Fafnir's  golden  lair. 

Long  Sigurd  rideth  the  waste,  when,  lo,  on  a  morning  of  day 

From  out  of  the  tangled  crag-walls,  amidst  the  cloud-land  grey 

Comes  up  a  mighty  mountain,  and  it  is  as  though  there  burns 

A  torch  amidst  of  its  cloud-wreath ;  so  thither  Sigurd  turns. 

For  he  deems  indeed  from  its  topmost  to  look  on  the  best  of  the  earth ; 

And  Greyfell  neigheth  beneath  him,  and  his  heart  is  full  of  mirth. 

So  he  rideth  higher  and  higher,  and  the  light  grows  great  and  strange. 

And  forth  from  the  clouds  it  flickers,  till  at  noon  they  gather  and  change, 

And  settle  thick  on  the  mountain,  and  hide  its  head  from  sight; 

But  the  winds  in  a  while  are  awakened,  and  day  bettereth  ere  the  night, 

And,  lifted,  a  measureless  mass  o'er  the  desert  crag-walls  high, 

Cloudless  the  mountain  riseth  against  the  sunset  sky, 

The  sea  of  the  sun  grows  golden,  as  it  ebbs  from  the  day's  desire ; 

And  the  light  that  afar  was  a  torch  is  grown  a  river  of  fire. 

And  the  mountain  is  black  above  it,  and  below  is  it  dark  and  dun ; 

And  there  is  the  head  of  Hindfell  as  an  island  in  the  sun. 

Night  falls,  but  yet  rides  Sigurd,  and  hath  no  thought  of  rest. 

For  he  longs  to  climb  that  rock-world  and  behold  the  earth  at  its  best ; 

But  now  mid  the  maze  of  the  foot-hills  he  seeth  the  light  no  more. 

And  the  stars  are  lovely  and  gleaming  on  the  lightless  heavenly  floor. 

So  up  and  up  he  wendeth  till  the  night  is  wearing  thin ; 

And  he  ridath  a  rift  of  the  mountain,  and  all  is  dark  therein, 


136  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Till  the  stars  are  dimmed  by  dawning  and  the  wakening  world  is  cold; 

Then  afar  in  the  upper  rock-wall  a  breach  doth  he  behold, 

And  a  flood  of  light  poured  inward  the  doubtful  dawning  blinds : 

So  swift  he  rideth  thither  and  the  mouth  of  the  breach  he  finds, 

And  sitteth  awhile  on  Greyfell  on  the  marvellous  thing  to  gaze : 

For  lo,  the  side  of  Hindfell  enwrapped  by  the  fervent  blaze, 

And  nought  'twixt  earth  and  heaven  save  a  world  of  flickering  flame, 

And  a  hurrying  shifting  tangle,  where  the  dark  rents  went  and  came. 

Great  groweth  the  heart  of  Sigurd  with  uttermost  desire, 

And  he  crieth  kind  to  Greyfell,  and  they  hasten  up,  and  nigher. 

Till  he  draweth  rein  in  the  dawning  on  the  face  of  Hindfell's  steep : 

But  who  shall  heed  the  dawning  where  the  tongues  of  that  wildfire  leap  ? 

For  they  weave  a  wavering  wall,  that  driveth  over  the  heaven 

The  wind  that  is  born  within  it ;  nor  ever  aside  is  it  driven 

By  the  mightiest  wind  of  the  waste,  and  the  rain-flood  amidst  it  is  nought . 

And  no  wayfarer's  door  and  no  window  the  hand  of  its  builder  hath  wrought. 

But  thereon  is  the  Volsung  smiling  as  its  breath  uplifteth  his  hair. 

And  his  eyes  shine  bright  with  its  image,  and  his  mail  gleams  white  and  fair, 

And  his  war-helm  pictures  the  heavens  and  the  waning  stars  behind : 

But  his  neck  is  Greyfell  stretching  to  snuff  at  the  flame-wall  blind. 

And  his  cloudy  flank  upheaveth,  and  tinkleth  the  knitted  mail, 

And  the  gold  of  the  uttermost  waters  is  waxen  wan  and  pale. 

Now  Sigurd  turns  in  his  saddle,  and  the  hilt  of  the  Wrath  he  shifts, 

And  draws  a  girth  the  tighter ;  then  the  gathered  reins  he  lifts, 

And  crieth  aloud  to  Greyfell,  and  rides  at  the  wildfire's  heart ; 

But  the  white  wall  wavers  before  him  and  the  flame-flood  rusheth  apart, 

And  high  o'er  his  head  it  riseth,  and  wide  and  wild  is  its  roar 

As  it  beareth  the  mighty  tidings  to  the  very  heavenly  floor : 

But  he  rideth  through  its  roaring  as  the  warrior  rides  the  rye. 

When  it  bows  with  the  wind  of  the  summer  and  the  hid  spears  draw  anigh; 

The  white  flame  licks  his  raiment  and  sweeps  through  Greyfell's  mane, 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  137 

And  bathes  both  hands  of  Sigurd  and  the  hilts  of  Fafnir's  bane, 
And  winds  about  his  war-helm  and  mingles  with  his  hair, 
But  nought  his  raiment  dusketh  or  dims  his  glittering  gear ; 
Then  it  fails  and  fades  and  darkens  till  all  seems  left  behind, 
And  dawn  and  the  blaze  is  swallowed  in  mid-mirk  stark  and  blind. 

But  forth  a  little  further  and  a  little  further  on 

And  all  is  calm  about  him,  and  he  sees  the  scorched  earth  wan 

Beneath  a  glimmering  twilight,  and  he  turns  his  conquering  eyes, 

And  a  ring  of  pale  slaked  ashes  on  the  side  of  Hindfell  lies ; 

And  the  world  of  the  waste  is  beyond  it ;  and  all  is  hushed  and  grey. 

And  the  new-risen  moon  is  a-paleing,  and  the  stars  grow  faint  with  day. 

Then  Sigurd  looked  before  him  and  a  Shield-burg  there  he  saw, 

A  wall  of  the  tiles  of  Odin  wrought  clear  without  a  flaw. 

The  gold  by  the  silver  gleaming,  and  the  ruddy  by  the  white ; 

And  the  blazonings  of  their  glory  were  done  upon  them  bright. 

As  of  dear  things  wrought  for  the  war-lords  new  come  to  Odin's  hall. 

Piled  high  aloft  to  the  heavens  uprose  that  battle-wall, 

And  far  o'er  the  topmost  shield-rim  for  a  banner  of  fame  there  hung 

A  glorious  golden  buckler ;  and  against  the  staff  it  rung 

As  the  earliest  wind  of  dawning  uprose  on  Hindfell's  face 

And  the  light  from  the  yellowing  east  beamed  soft  on  the  shielded  place. 

But  the  Wrath  cried  out  in  answer  as  Sigurd  leapt  adown 

To  the  wasted  soil  of  the  desert  by  that  rampart  of  renown ; 

He  looked  but  little  beneath  it,  and  the  dwelling  of  God  it  seemed. 

As  against  its  gleaming  silence  the  eager  Sigurd  gleamed : 

He  draweth  not  sword  from  scabbard,  as  the  wall  he  wendeth  around. 

And  it  is  but  the  wind  and  Sigurd  that  wakeneth  any  sound : 

But,  lo,  to  the  gate  he  cometh,  and  the  doors  are  open  wide. 

And  no  warder  the  way  withstandeth,  and  no  earls  by  the  threshold  abide ; 

So  he  stands  awhile  and  marvels ;  then  the  baleful  light  of  the  Wrath 


138  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Gleams  bare  in  his  ready  hand  as  he  wendeth  the  inward  path  :         [snare, 

For  he  doubteth  some  guile  of  the  Gods,  or  perchance  some  Dwarf-king's 

Or  a  mock  of  the  Giant  people  that  shall  fade  in  the  morning  air : 

But  he  getteth  him  in  and  gazeth ;  and  a  wall  doth  he  behold, 

And  the  ruddy  set  by  the  white,  and  the  silver  by  the  gold ; 

But  within  the  garth  that  it  girdeth  no  work  of  man  is  set, 

But  the  utmost  head  of  Hindfell  ariseth  higher  yet ; 

And  below  in  the  very  midmost  is  a  Giant-fashioned  mound, 

Piled  high  as  the  rims  of  the  Shield-burg  above  the  level  ground ; 

And  there,  on  that  mound  of  the  Giants,  o'er  the  wilderness  forlorn, 

A  pale  grey  image  lieth,  and  gleameth  in  the  morn. 

So  there  was  Sigurd  alone ;  and  he  went  from  the  shielded  door. 

And  aloft  in  the  desert  of  wonder  the  Light  of  the  Branstock  he  bore ; 

And  he  set  his  face  to  the  earth-mound,  and  beheld  the  image  wan. 

And  the  dawn  was  growing  about  it ;  and,  lo,  the  shape  of  a  man 

Set  forth  to  the  eyeless  desert  on  the  tower-top  of  the  world. 

High  over  the  cloud-wrought  castle  whence  the  windy  bolts  are  hurled. 

Now  he  comes  to  the  mound  and  climbs  it,  and  will  see  if  the  man  be  dead ; 

Some  King  of  the  days  forgotten  laid  there  with  crowned  head, 

Or  the  frame  of  a  God,  it  may  be,  that  in  heaven  hath  changed  his  life, 

Or  some  glorious  heart  beloved,  God-rapt  from  the  earthly  strife  : 

Now  over  the  body  he  standeth,  and  seeth  it  shapen  fair. 

And  clad  from  head  to  foot-sole  in  pale  grey-glittering  gear, 

In  a  hauberk  wrought  as  straitly  as  though  to  the  flesh  it  were  grown : 

But  a  great  helm  hideth  the  head  and  is  girt  with  a  glittering  crown. 

So  thereby  he  stoopeth  and  kneeleth,  for  he  deems  it  were  good  indeed 
If  the  breath  of  life  abide  there  and  the  speech  to  help  at  need ; 
And  as  sweet  as  the  summer  wind  from  a  garden  under  the  sun 
Cometh  forth  on  the  topmost  Hindfell  the  breath  of  that  sleeping-one. 
Then  he  saith  he  will  look  on  the  face,  if  it  bear  him  love  or  hate, 


BOOK  II.    REGIN.  139 

Or  the  bonds  for  his  life's  constraining,  or  the  sundering  doom  of  fate. 
So  he  draweth  the  helm  from  the  head,  and,  lo,  the  brow  snow-white, 
And  the  smooth  unfurrowed  cheeks,  and  the  wise  lips  breathing  light ; 
And  the  face  of  a  woman  it  is,  and  the  fairest  that  ever  was  born. 
Shown  forth  to  the  empty  heavens  and  the  desert  world  forlorn : 
But  he  looketh,  and  loveth  her  sore,  and  he  longeth  her  spirit  to  move, 
And  awaken  her  heart  to  the  world,  that  she  may  behold  him  and  love. 
And  he  toucheth  her  breast  and  her  hands,  and  he  loveth  her  passing  soie; 
And  he  saith  :  "  Awake  1  I  am  Sigurd ; "  but  she  moveth  never  the  more. 

[thou  do  ? 
Then  he  looked  on  his  bare  bright  blade,  and  he  said :  "Thou — what  wilt 
For  indeed  as  I  came  by  the  war-garth  thy  voice  of  desire  I  knew." 
Bright  burnt  the  pale  blue  edges  for  the  sunrise  drew  anear. 
And  the  rims  of  the  Shield-burg  glittered,  and  the  east  was  exceeding  clear 
So  the  eager  edges  he  setteth  to  the  Dwarf-wrought  battle-coat 
Where  the  hammered  ring-knit  collar  constraineth  the  soman's  throat  j 
But  the  sharp  Wrath  biteth  and  rendeth,  and  before  it  ^ail  the  rings. 
And,  lo,  the  gleam  of  the  linen,  and  the  light  of  golden  things : 
Then  he  driveth  the  blue  steel  onward,  and  through  the  skirt,  and  out, 
Till  nought  but  the  rippling  linen  is  wrapping  her  about ; 
Then  he  deems  her  breath  comes  quicker  and  her  breast  begins  to  heave, 
So  he  turns  about  the  War-Flame  and  rends  down  either  sleeve. 
Till  her  arms  lie  white  in  her  raiment,  and  a  river  of  sun-bright  hair 
Flows  free  o'er  bosom  and  shoulder  and  floods  the  desert  bare. 

Then  a  flush  cometh  over  her  visage  and  a  sigh  up-heaveth  her  breast, 
And  her  eyelids  quiver  and  open,  and  she  wakeneth  into  rest ; 
Wide-eyed  on  the  dawning  she  gazeth,  too  glad  to  change  or  smile, 
And  but  little  moveth  her  body,  nor  speaketh  she  yet  for  a  while ; 
And  yet  kneels  Sigurd  rrioveless  her  wakening  speech  to  heed. 
While  soft  the  waves  of  the  daylight  o'er  the  starless  heavens  speed. 
And  the  gleaming  rims  of  the  Shield-burg  yet  bright  and  brighter  grow, 
And  the  thin  moon  hangeth  her  horns  dead-white  in  the  golden  glow. 


I40  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Thtn  she  turned  and  gazed  on  Sigurd,  and  her  eyes  met  the  Volsung's  eyes- 
And  mighty  and  measureless  now  did  the  tide  of  his  love  arise,  [loved, 
For  their  longing  had  met  and  mingled,  and  he  knew  of  her  heart  that  she 
As  she  spake  unto  nothing  but  him  and  her  lips  with  the  speech-flood  moved : 

"  O,  what  is  the  thing  so  mighty  that  my  weary  sleep  hath  torn, 
And  rent  the  fallow  bondage,  and  the  wan  woe  over-worn  ? " 

He  said :  "  The  hand  of  Sigurd  and  the  Sword  of  Sigmund's  son. 

And  the  heart  that  the  Volsungs  fashioned  this  deed  for  thee  have  done." 

But  she  said :  "  Where  then  is  Odin  that  laid  me  here  alow  ? 
Long  lasteth  the  grief  of  the  world,  and  man-folk's  tangled  woe  !  " 

"He  dwelleth  above,"  said  Sigurd,  "but  I  on  the  earth  abide. 

And  I  came  from  the  Glittering  Heath  the  waves  of  thy  fire  to  ride." 

But  therewith  the  sun  rose  upward  and  lightened  all  the  earth, 
And  the  light  flashed  up  to  the  heavens  from  the  rims  of  the  glorious  girth  j 
But  they  twain  arose  together,  and  with  both  her  palms  outspread, 
And  bathed  in  the  light  returning,  she  cried  aloud  and  said : 

"  All  hail  O  Day  and  thy  Sons,  and  thy  kin  of  the  coloured  things ! 
Hail,  following  Night,  and  thy  Daughter  that  leadeth  thy  wavering  wings  I 
Look  down  with  unangry  eyes  on  us  today  alive. 
And  give  us  the  hearts  victorious,  and  the  gain  for  which  we  strive ! 
All  hail,  ye  Lords  of  God-home,  and  ye  Queens  of  the  House  of  Gold ! 
Hail  thou  dear  Earth  that  bearest,  and  thou  Wealth  of  field  and  fold ! 
Give  us,  your  noble  children,  the  glory  of  wisdom  and  speech,      [teach  I " 
And  the  hearts  and  the  hands  of  healing,  and  the  mouths  and  hands  that 

Then  they  turned  and  were  knit  together ;  and  oft  and  o'er  again 
They  craved,  and  kissed  rejoicing,  and  their  hearts  were  full  and  fain. 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  141 

Then  Sigurd  looketh  upon  her,  and  the  words  from  his  heart  arise : 
"  Thou  art  the  fairest  of  earth,  and  the  wisest  of  the  wise ; 

0  who  art  thou  that  lovest  ?     I  am  Sigurd,  e'en  as  I  told ; 

1  have  slain  the  Foe  of  the  Gods,  and  gotten  the  Ancient  Gold  j 

And  great  were  the  gain  of  thy  love,  and  the  gift  of  mine  earthly  days. 
If  we  twain  should  never  sunder  as  we  wend  on  the  changing  ways. 
O  who  art  thou  that  lovest,  thou  fairest  of  all  things  born  ? 
And  what  meaneth  thy  sleep  and  thy  slumber  in  the  wilderness  forlorn .? " 

She  said :  "  I  am  she  that  loveth  :  I  was  born  of  the  earthly  folk. 
But  of  old  Allfather  took  me  from  the  Kings  and  their  wedding  yoke  : 
And  he  called  me  the  Victory-Wafter,  and  I  went  and  came  as  he  would. 
And  I  chose  the  slain  for  his  war-host,  and  the  days  were  glorious  and  good, 
Till  the  thoughts  of  my  heart  overcame  me,  and  the  pride  of  my  wisdom 

and  speech,  [teach : 

And  I  scorned  the  earth-folk's  Framer  and  the  Lord  of  the  world  I  must 
For  the  death-doomed  I  caught  from  the  sword,  and  the  fated  life  I  slew. 
And  I  deemed  that  my  deeds  were  goodly,  and  that  long  I  should  do  and 

undo. 
But  Allfather  came  against  me  and  the  God  in  his  wrath  arose ;  [foes, 

And  he  cried :  *  Thou  hast  thought  in  thy  folly  that  the  Gods  have  friends  and 
That  they  wake,  and  the  world  wends  onward,  that  they  sleep,  and  the 

world  slips  back,  [the  wrack : 

That  they  laugh,  and  the  world's  weal  waxeth,  that  they  frown  and  fashion 
Thou  hast  cast  up  the  curse  against  me ;  it  shall  fall  aback  on  thine  head ; 
Go  back  to  the  sons  of  repentance,  with  the  children  of  sorrow  wed ! 
For  the  Gods  are  great  unholpen,  and  their  grief  is  seldom  seen. 
And  the  wrong  that  they  will  and  must  be  is  soon  as  it  hath  not  been.' 

"  Yet  I  thought :  '  Shall  I  wed  in  the  world,  shall  I  gather  grief  on  the  earth  f 
Then  the  fearless  heart  shall  I  wed,  and  bring  the  best  to  birth, 
And  fashion  such  tales  for  the  telling,  that  Earth  shall  be  holpen  at  least, 
If  the  Gods  think  scorn  of  its  fairness,  as  they  sit  at  the  changeless  feast' 


142  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

"  Then  somewhat  smiled  Allfather ;  and  he  spake  :  '  So  let  it  be ! 

The  doom  thereof  abideth ;  the  doom  of  me  and  thee. 

Yet  long  shall  the  time  pass  over  ere  thy  waking-day  be  born : 

Fare  forth,  and  forget  and  be  weary  'neath  the  Sting  of  the  Sleepful  Thorn ! ' 

"  So  I  came  to  the  head  of  Hindfell  and  the  ruddy  shields  and  white, 
And  the  wall  of  the  wildfire  wavering  around  the  isle  of  night ; 
And  there  the  Sleep-thorn  pierced  me,  and  the  slumber  on  me  fell, 
And  the  night  of  nameless  sorrows  that  hath  no  tale  to  tell. 
Now  I  am  she  that  loveth ;  and  the  day  is  nigh  at  hand 
When  I,  who  have  ridden  the  sea-realm  and  the  regions  of  the  land. 
And  dwelt  in  the  measureless  mountains  and  the  forge  of  stormy  days. 
Shall  dwell  in  the  house  of  my  fathers  and  the  land  of  the  people's  praise ; 
And  there  shall  hand  meet  hand,  and  heart  by  heart  shall  beat, 
And  the  lying-down  shall  be  joyous,  and  the  morn's  uprising  sweet. 
Lo  now,  I  look  on  thine  heart  and  behold  of  thine  inmost  will. 
That  thou  of  the  days  wouldst  hearken  that  our  portion  shall  fulfill ; 
But  O,  be  wise  of  man-folk,  and  the  hope  of  thine  heart  refrain ! 
As  oft  in  the  battle's  beginning  ye  vex  the  steed  with  the  rein. 
Lest  at  last  in  its  latter  ending,  when  the  sword  hath  hushed  the  horn. 
His  limbs  should  be  weary  and  fail,  and  his  might  be  over-worn. 
O  be  wise,  lest  thy  love  constrain  me,  and  my  vision  wax  o'er-clear, 
And  thou  ask  of  the  thing  that  thou  shouldst  not,  and  the  thing  that  thou 
wouldst  not  hear. 

"  Know  thou,  most  mighty  of  men,  that  the  Norns  shall  order  all. 

And  yet  without  thine  helping  shall  no  whit  of  their  will  befall ; 

Be  wise  !  'tis  a  marvel  of  words,  and  a  mock  for  the  fool  and  the  blind ; 

But  I  saw  it  writ  in  the  heavens,  and  its  fashioning  there  did  I  find : 

And  the  night  of  the  Norns  and  their  slumber,  and  the  tide  when  the  world 

runs  back. 
And  the  way  of  the  sun  is  tangled,  it  is  wrought  of  the  dastard's  lack. 
But  the  day  when  the  fair  earth  blossoms,  and  the  sun  is  bright  above. 


BOOK   II.     REGIN.  143 

Of  the  daring  deeds  is  it  fashioned  and  the  eager  hearts  of  love. 

"Be  wise,  and  cherish  thine  hope  in  the  freshness  of  the  days, 

And  scatter  its  seed  from  thine  hand  in  the  field  of  the  people's  praise ; 

Then  fair  shall  it  fall  in  the  furrow,  and  some  the  earth  shall  speed, 

And  the  sons  of  men  shall  marvel  at  the  blossom  of  the  deed : 

But  some  the  earth  shall  speed  not ;  nay  rather,  the  wind  of  the  heaven 

Shall  waft  it  away  from  thy  longing —  and  a  gift  to  the  Gods  hast  thou  given, 

And  a  tree  for  the  roof  and  the  wall  in  the  house  of  the  hope  that  shall  be, 

Though  it  seemeth  our  very  sorrow,  and  the  grief  of  thee  and  me. 

"  Strive  not  with  the  fools  of  man-folk  :  for  belike  thou  shalt  overcome , 
And  what  then  is  the  gain  of  thy  hunting  when  thou  bearest  the  quarry  home  ? 
Or  else  shall  the  fool  overcome  thee,  and  what  deed  thereof  shall  grow  ? 
Nay,  strive  with  the  wise  man  rather,  and  increase  thy  woe  and  his  woe ; 
Yet  thereof  a  gain  hast  thou  gotten ;  and  the  half  of  thine  heart  hast  thou  won 
If  thou  mayst  prevail  against  him,  and  his  deeds  are  the  deeds  thou  hast  done : 
Yea,  and  if  thou  fall  before  him,  in  him  shalt  thou  live  again,         [be  fain. 
And  thy  deeds  in  his  hand  shall  blossom,  and  his  heart  of  thine  heart  shall 

"  When  thou  hearest  the  fool  rejoicing,  and  he  saith,  *  It  is  over  and  past, 
And  the  wrong  was  better  than  right,  and  hate  turns  into  love  at  the  last, 
And  we  strove  for  nothing  at  all,  and  the  Gods  are  fallen  asleep  j 
For  so  good  is  the  world  a  growing  that  the  evil  good  shall  reap : ' 
Then  loosen  thy  sword  in  the  scabbard  and  settle  the  helm  on  thine  head. 
For  men  betrayed  are  mighty,  and  great  are  the  wrongfully  dead. 

**' Wilt  thou  do  the  deed  and  repent  it?  thou  hadst  better  never  been  born  . 
Wilt  thou  do  the  deed  and  exalt  it  ?  then  thy  fame  shall  be  outworn : 
Thou  shalt  do  the  deed  and  abide  it,  and  sit  on  thy  throne  on  high, 
And  look  on  today  and  tomorrow  as  those  that  never  die. 

[end, 
"  Love  thou  the  Gods  —  and  withstand  them,  lest  thy  fame  should  fail  in  th? 


144  1HE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  thou  be  but  their  thrall  and  their  bondsman,  who  wert  born  for  their 

very  friend : 
For  few  things  from  the  Gods  are  hidden,  and  the  hearts  of  men  they  know, 
And  how  that  none  rejoiceth  to  quail  and  crouch  alow. 

"  I  have  spoken  the  words,  belovbd,  to  thy  matchless  glory  and  worth ; 
But  thy  heart  to  my  heart  hath  been  speaking,  though  my  tongue  hath  set  it 
For  I  am  she  that  loveth,  and  I  know  what  thou  wouldst  teach  [forth : 

From  the  heart  of  thine  unlearned  wisdom,and  I  need  must  speak  thy  speech." 

Then  words  were  weary  and  silent,  but  oft  and  o'er  again 

They  craved  and  kissed  rejoicing,  and  their  hearts  were  full  and  fain* 

Then  spake  the  Son  of  Sigmund  :  "  Fairest,  and  most  of  worth. 
Hast  thou  seen  the  ways  of  man-folk  and  the  regions  of  the  earth  ? 
Then  speak  yet  more  of  wisdom ;  for  most  meet  meseems  it  is 
That  my  soul  to  thy  soul  be  shapen,  and  that  I  should  know  thy  bliss." 

So  she  took  his  right  hand  meekly,  nor  any  word  would  say, 

Not  e'en  of  love  or  praising,  his  longing  to  delay ; 

And  they  sat  on  the  side  of  Hindfell,  and  their  fain  eyes  looked  and  loved 

As  she  told  of  the  hidden  matters  whereby  the  world  is  moved  : 

And  she  told  of  the  framing  of  all  things,  and  the  houses  of  the  heaven ; 

And  she  told  of  the  star-worlds'  courses,  and  how  the  winds  be  driven ; 

And  she  told  of  the  Norns  and  their  names, and  the  fate  that  abideth  the  earth; 

And  she  told  of  the  ways  of  King-folk  in  their  anger  and  their  mirth ; 

And  she  spake  of  the  love  of  women,  and  told  of  the  flame  that  burns, 

And  the  fall  of  mighty  houses,  and  the  friend  that  falters  and  turns, 

And  the  lurking  blinded  vengeance,  and  the  wrong  that  amendeth  wrong, 

And  the  hand  that  repenteth  its  stroke,  and  the  grief  that  endureth  for  long  ,• 

And  how  man  shall  bear  and  forbear,  and  be  master  of  all  that  is ; 

And  how  man  shall  measure  it  all,  the  wrath,  and  the  grief,  and  the  bliss. 

"  I  saw  the  body  of  Wisdom,  and  of  shifting  guise  was  she  wrought, 


BOOK  II.     REGIN.  145 

And  I  stretched  out  my  hands  to  hold  her,  and  a  mote  of  the  dust  they  caught  i 
And  I  prayed  her  to  come  for  my  teaching,  and  she  came  in  the  midnight 

dream  — 
And  I  woke  and  might  not  remember,  nor  betwixt  her  tangle  deem : 
She  spake,  and  how  might  I  hearken ;  I  heard,  and  how  might  I  know ; 
I  knew,  and  how  might  I  fashion,  or  her  hidden  glory  show  ? 
All  things  I  have  told  thee  of  Wisdom  are  but  fleeting  images 
Of  her  hosts  that  abide  in  the  Heavens,  and  her  light  that  Allfather  sees : 
Yet  wise  is  the  sower  that  sows,  and  wise  is  the  reaper  that  reaps, 
And  wise  is  the  smith  in  his  smiting,  and  wise  is  the  warder  that  keeps : 
And  wise  shalt  thou  be  to  deliver,  and  I  shall  be  wise  to  desire ; 

—  And  lo,  the  tale  that  is  told,  and  the  sword  and  the  wakening  fire ! 
Lo  now,  I  am  she  that  loveth,  and  hark  how  Gre3^ell  neighs. 
And  Fafnir's  Bed  is  gleaming,  and  green  go  the  downward  ways. 
The  road  to  the  children  of  men  and  the  deeds  that  thou  shalt  do 
In  the  joy  of  thy  life-day's  morning,  when  thine  hope  is  fashioned  anew. 
Come  now,  O  Bane  of  the  Serpent,  for  now  is  the  high-noon  come. 
And  the  sun  hangeth  over  Hindfell  and  looks  on  the  earth-folk's  home  ; 
But  the  soul  is  so  great  within  thee,  and  so  glorious  are  thine  eyes, 
And  me  so  love  constraineth,  and  mine  heart  that  was  called  the  wise. 
That  we  twain  may  see  men's  dwellings  and  the  house  where  we  shall  dwell, 
And  the  place  of  our  life's  beginning,  where  the  tale  shall  be  to  tell." 

So  they  climb  the  burg  of  Hindfell,  and  hand  in  hand  they  fare, 
Till  all  about  and  above  them  is  nought  but  the  sunlit  air, 
And  there  close  they  cling  together  rejoicing  in  their  mirth ; 
For  far  away  beneath  them  lie  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth, 
And  the  garths  of  men-folk's  dwellings  and  the  streams  that  water  them. 
And  the  rich  and  plenteous  acres,  and  the  silver  ocean's  hem. 
And  the  woodland  wastes  and  the  mountains,  and  all  that  holdeth  all ; 
The  house  and  the  ship  and  the  island,  the  loom  and  the  mine  and  the  stall, 
The  beds  of  bane  and  healing,  the  crafts  that  slay  and  save, 
10 


146  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

The  temple  of  God  and  the  Doom-ring,  the  cradle  and  the  grave. 

Then  spake  the  Victory-Wafter :  "  O  King  of  the  Earthly  Age, 

As  a  God  thou  beholdest  the  treasure  and  the  joy  of  thine  heritage, 

And  where  on  the  wings  of  his  hope  is  the  spirit  of  Sigurd  borne  ? 

Yet  I  bid  thee  hover  awhile  as  a  lark  alow  on  the  corn ; 

Yet  I  bid  thee  look  on  the  land  'twixt  the  wood  and  the  silver  sea 

In  the  bight  of  the  swirling  river,  and  the  house  that  cherished  me  ! 

There  dwelleth  mine  earthly  sister  and  the  king  that  she  hath  wed  ; 

There  morn  by  morn  aforetime  I  woke  on  the  golden  bed  ; 

There  eve  by  eve  I  tarried  mid  the  speech  and  the  lays  of  kings  : 

There  noon  by  noon  I  wandered  and  plucked  the  blossoming  things  j 

The  little  land  of  Lymdale  by  the  swirling  river's  side, 

Where  Brynhild  once  was  I  called  in  the  days  ere  my  father  died ; 

The  little  land  of  Lymdale  'twixt  the  woodland  and  the  sea. 

Where  on  thee  mine  eyes  shall  brighten  and  thine  eyes  shall  beam  on  me." 

"  I  shall  seek  thee  there,"  said  Sigurd,  "  when  the  day-spring  is  begun, 
Ere  we  wend  the  world  together  in  the  season  of  the  sun." 

"  I  shall  bide  thee  there,"  said  Brynhild,  "  till  the  fullness  of  the  days. 
And  the  time  for  the  glory  appointed,  and  the  springing-tide  of  praise." 

From  his  hand  then  draweth  Sigurd  Andvari's  ancient  Gold  ; 

There  is  nought  but  the  sky  above  them  as  the  ring  together  they  hold, 

The  shapen  ancient  token,  that  hath  no  change  nor  end, 

No  change,  and  no  beginning,  no  flaw  for  God  to  mend  ; 

Then  Sigurd  cries  :  "  O  Brynhild,  now  hearken  while  I  swear, 

That  the  sun  shall  die  in  the  heavens  and  the  day  no  more  be  fair, 

If  I  seek  not  love  in  Lymdale  and  the  house  that  fostered  thee. 

And  the  land  where  thou  awakedst  'twixt  the  woodland  and  the  sea !  '* 

And  she  cried  :  "  O  Sigurd,  Sigurd,  now  hearken  while  I  swear 


BOOK    II.   REGIN.  147 

That  the  day  shall  die  for  ever  and  the  sun  to  blackness  wear, 

Ere  I  forgot  thee,  Sigurd,  as  I  lie  'twixt  wood  and  sea 

In  the  little  land  of  Lymdale  and  the  house  that  fostered  me  ! " 

Then  he  set  the  ring  on  her  finger  and  once,  if  ne*er  again, 

They  kissed  and  clung  together,  and  their  hearts  were  full  and  fain. 

So  the  day  grew  old  about  them  and  the  joy  of  their  desire, 
And  eve  and  the  sunset  came,  and  faint  grew  the  sunset  fire, 
And  the  shadowless  death  of  the  day  was  sweet  in  the  golden  tide ; 
But  the  stars  shone  forth  on  the  world,  and  the  twilight  changed  and  died  , 
And  sure  if  the  first  of  man-folk  had  been  born  to  that  starry  night. 
And  had  heard  no  tale  of  the  sunrise,  he  had  never  longed  for  the  light : 
But  Earth  longed  amidst  her  slumber,  as  'neath  the  night  she  lay, 
And  fresh  and  all  abundant  abode  the  deeds  of  Day. 


BOOK   III. 

BRYNHILD. 

IN  THIS    BOOK   IS   TOLD   OF   THE    DEEDS   OF   SIGURD,    AND   OF    HIS   SOJOURN 
WITH   THE   NIBLUNGS,    AND    IN   THE    END   OF    HOW   HE   DIED. 

Of  the  Dream  of  Gudrun  the  Daughter  of  Giuki. 

A  ND  now  of  the  Niblung  people  the  tale  beginneth  to  tell,    [they  dwell 
•^-^     How  they  deal  with  the  wind  and  the  weather ;  in  the  cloudy  drift 
When  the  war  is  awake  in  the  mountains,  and  they  drive  the  desert  spoil, 
And  their  weaponed  hosts  unwearied  through  the  misty  hollows  toil  : 
But  again  in  the  eager  sunshine  they  scour  across  the  plain, 
And  spear  by  spear  is  quivering,  and  rein  is  laid  by  rein. 
And  the  dust  is  about  and  behind  them,  and  the  fear  speeds  on  before, 
As  they  shake  the  flowery  meadows  with  the  fleeting  flood  of  war. 
Yea,  when  they  come  from  the  battle,  and  the  land  lies  down  in  peace, 
No  less  in  gear  of  warriors  they  gather  earth's  increase. 
And  helmed  as  the  Gods  of  battle  they  drive  the  team  afield : 
These  come  to  the  council  of  elders  with  sword  and  spear  and  shield. 
And  shout  to  their  war-dukes'  dooming  of  their  uttermost  desire  : 
These  never  bow  the  helm-crest  before  the  High-Gods'  fire 
But  show  their  swords  to  Odin,  and  cry  on  Vingi-Thor 
With  the  dancing  of  the  ring-mail  and  the  smitten  shields  of  war : 
Yet  though  amid  their  high-tides  of  the  deaths  of  men  they  sing. 
And  of  swords  in  the  battle  broken,  and  the  fall  of  many  a  king,         [gain 
Yet  they  sing  it  wreathed  with  the  flowers  and  they  praise  the  gift  and  the 
Of  the  war-lord  sped  to  Odin  as  he  rends  the  battle  atwain. 
And  their  days  are  young  and  glorious,  and  in  hope  exceeding  great 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  149 

With  sword  and  harp  and  beaker  on  the  skirts  of  the  Norns  they  wait. 

Now  the  King  of  this  folk  is  Giuki,  and  he  sits  in  the  Niblung  hall 

When  the  song  of  men  goes  roofward  and  the  shields  shine  out  from  the 

And  his  queen  in  the  high-seat  sitteth,  the  woman  overwise,  [wall  j 

Grimhild  the  kin  of  the  God-folk,  the  wife  of  the  glittering  eyes : 

And  his  sons  on  each  hand  are  sitting ;  there  is  Gunnar  the  great  and  fair 

With  the  lovely  face  of  a  king  'twixt  the  night  of  his  wavy  hair : 

And  there  is  the  wise-heart  Hogni  j  and  his  lips  are  close  and  thin, 

And  grey  and  awful  his  eyen,  and  a  many  sights  they  win  : 

And  there  is  Guttorm  the  youngest,  of  the  fierce  and  wandering  glance, 

And  the  heart  that  never  resteth  till  the  swords  in  the  war-wind  dance : 

And  there  is  Gudrun  his  daughter,  and  light  she  stands  by  the  board. 

And  fair  are  her  arms  in  the  hall  as  the  beaker's  flood  is  poured  : 

She  comes,  and  the  earls  keep  silence ;  she  smiles,  and  men  rejoice ; 

She  speaks,  and  the  harps  unsmitten  thrill  faint  to  her  queenly  voice. 

So  blossom  the  days  of  the  Niblungs,  and  great  is  their  hope's  increase 
'Twixt  the  merry  days  of  battle  and  the  tide  of  their  guarded  peace  : 
There  is  many  a  noon  of  joyance,  and  many  an  eve's  delight. 
And  many  a  deed  for  the  doing  'twixt  the  morning  and  the  night. 

Now  betimes  on  a  morning  of  summer  that  Giuki's  daughter  arose, 

Alone  went  the  fair-armed  Gudrun  to  her  flowery  garden-close ; 

And  she  went  by  the  bower  of  women,  and  her  damsels  saw  her  thence. 

And  her  nurse  went  down  to  meet  her  as  she  came  by  the  rose-hung  fence, 

And  she  saw  that  her  eyes  were  heavy  as  she  trod  with  doubtful  feet 

Betwixt  the  rose  and  the  lily,  nor  blessed  the  blossoms  sweet : 

And  she  spake : 

"  What  ails  thee,  daughter,  as  one  asleep  to  tread 
O'er  the  grass  of  the  merry  summer  and  the  daisies  white  and  red  ? 
And  to  have  no  heart  for  the  harp-play,  or  the  needle's  mastery. 
Where  the  gold  and  the  silk  are  framing  the  Swans  of  the  Goths  on  the  sea, 


^ 


150  THE  STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  helms  and  shields  of  warriors,  and  King  on  the  hazelled  isle  ? 
Why  hast  thou  no  more  joyance  on  the  damsels'  glee  to  smile  ? 
Why  biddest  thou  not  to  the  wild- wood  with  horse  and  hawk  and  hound  ? 
Why  biddest  thou  not  to  the  heathland  and  the  eagle-haunted  ground 
To  meet  thy  noble  brethren  as  they  ride  from  the  mountain-road  ? 
Hast  thou  deemed  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  a  churlish  poor  abode  ? 
Wouldst  thou  wend  away  from  thy  kindred,  and  scorn  thy  fosterer's  praise  j 
—  Or  is  this  the  beginning  of  love  and  the  first  of  the  troublous  days  ? " 

Then  spake  the  fair-armed  Gudrun :  "  Nay  nought  I  know  of  scorn 

For  the  noble  kin  of  the  Niblungs,  or  the  house  where  I  was  born ; 

No  pain  of  love  hath  smit  me,  and  no  evil  days  begin, 

And  I  shall  be  fain  tomorrow  of  the  deeds  that  the  maidens  win : 

But  if  I  wend  the  summer  in  dull  unlovely  seeming, 

It  comes  of  the  night,  O  mother,  and  the  tide  of  last  night's  dreaming." 

Then  spake  the  ancient  woman  :  "Thy  dream  to  me  shalt  thou  show; 
Such  oft  foretell  but  the  weather,  and  the  airts  whence  the  wind  shall  blow." 

Blood-red  was  waxen  Gudrun,  and  she  said :  "  But  little  it  is : 

Meseems  I  sat  by  the  door  of  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs'  bliss. 

And  from  out  of  the  north  came  a  falcon,  and  a  marvellous  bird  it  was ; 

For  his  feathers  were  all  of  gold,  and  his  eyes  as  the  sunlit  glass. 

And  hither  and  thither  he  flew  about  the  kingdoms  of  Kings, 

And  the  fear  of  men  went  with  him,  and  the  war-blast  under  his  wings : 

But  I  feared  him  never  a  deal,  nay,  hope  came  into  my  heart, 

And  meseemed  in  his  war-bold  ways  I  also  had  a  part ; 

And  my  eyes  still  followed  his  wings  as  hither  and  thither  he  swept 

O'er  the  doors  and  the  dwellings  of  King-folk  j  till  the  heart  within  me  leapt^ 

For  over  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  he  hung  a  little  space. 

Then  stooped  to  my  very  knees,  and  cried  out  kind  in  my  face : 

And  fain  and  full  was  my  heart,  and  I  took  him  to  my  breast. 

And  fair  methought  was  the  world  and  a  home  of  infinite  rest." 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  151 

Her  speech  dropped  dead  as  she  spake,  and  her  eyes  from  the  nurse  she 

turned, 
But  now  and  again  thereafter  the  flush  in  her  fair  cheek  burned, 
And  her  eyes  were  dreamy  and  great,  as  of  one  who  looketh  afar. 

[are ; 
But  the  nurse  laughed  out  and  answered :  "  Such  the  dreams  of  maidens 
And  if  thou  hast  told  me  all  'tis  a  goodly  dream,  forsooth  : 
For  what  should  I  call  this  falcon  save  a  glorious  kingly  youth, 
Who  shall  fly  full  wide  o'er  the  world  in  fame  and  victory, 
Till  he  hangs  o'er  the  Niblung  dwelling  and  stoops  to  thy  very  knee  ( 
And  fain  and  full  shall  thine  heart  be,  when  his  cheek  shall  cherish  thy 

breast, 
And  fair  things  shalt  thou  deem  of  the  world  as  a  place  of  infinite  rest." 

But  cold  grew  the  maiden's  visage  :  ''  God  wot  thou  hast  plenteous  lore 

In  the  reading  of  dreams,  my  mother ;  but  thou  lovest  thy  fosterling  sore, 

And  the  good  and  the  evil  alike  shall  turn  in  thine  heart  to  good  j 

Wise  too  is  my  mother  Grimhild,  but  I  fear  her  guileful  mood. 

Lest  she  love  me  overmuch,  and  fashion  all  dreams  to  ill. 

Now  who  is  the  wise  of  woman,  who  herein  hath  measureless  skill .? 

For  her  forthright  would  I  find,  how  far  soever  I  fare. 

Lest  I  wend  like  a  fool  in  the  world,  and  rejoice  with  my  feet  in  the  snare." 

Quoth  the  nurse :  "  Though  the  dream  be  goodly  and  its  reading  easy  and 
It  is  nought  but  a  little  matter  if  thy  golden  wain  be  dight,  [light, 

And  thou  ride  to  the  land  of  Lymdale,  the  little  land  and  green. 
And  come  to  the  hall  of  Brynhild,  the  maid  and  the  shielded  Queen, 
The  Queen  and  the  wise  of  women,  who  sees  all  haps  to  come : 
And  'twill  be  but  light  to  bid  her  to  seek  thy  dream-tale  home  j 
Though  surely  shall  she  arede  it  in  e'en  such  wise  as  I ; 
And  so  shall  the  day  be  merry  and  the  summer  cloud  go  by." 

"Thou  hast  spoken  well,"  said  Gudrun,  "  let  us  tarry  now  no  whit; 


152  THE  STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

For  wise  in  the  world  is  the  woman,  and  knoweth  the  ways  of  it." 

So  they  make  the  yoke-beasts  ready,  and  dight  the  wains  for  the  way, 

And  the  maidens  gather  together,  and  their  bodies  they  array. 

And  gird  the  laps  of  the  linen,  and  do  on  the  dark-blue  gear. 

And  bind  with  the  leaves  of  summer  the  wandering  of  their  hair : 

Then  they  drive  by  dale  and  acre,  o'er  heath  and  holt  they  wend. 

Till  they  come  to  the  land  of  the  waters,  and  the  lea  by  the  woodland's  end 

And  there  is  the  burg  of  Brynhild,  the  white-walled  house  and  long. 

And  the  garth  her  fathers  fashioned  before  the  days  of  wrong. 

So  fare  their  feet  on  the  earth  by  the  threshold  of  the  Queen, 

And  Brynhild's  damsels  abide  them,  for  their  goings  had  been  seen  ; 

And  the  mint  and  the  blossomed  woodruif  they  strew  before  their  feet. 

And  their  arms  of  welcome  take  them,  and  they  kiss  them  soft  and  sweet, 

And  they  go  forth  into  the  feast-hall,  the  many-pillared  house  j 

Most  goodly  were  its  hangings  and  its  webs  were  glorious 

With  tales  of  ancient  fathers,  and  the  Swans  of  the  Goths  on  the  sea. 

And  weaponed  Kings  on  the  island,  and  great  deeds  yet  to  be ; 

And  the  host  of  Odin's  Choosers,  and  the  boughs  of  the  fateful  Oak, 

And  the  gush  of  Mimir's  Fountain,  and  the  Midworld-Serpent's  yoke. 

So  therein  the  maidens  enter,  but  Gudrun  all  out-goes, 

As  over  the  leaves  of  the  garden  shines  the  many-folded  rose : 

Amidst  and  alone  she  standeth  ;  in  the  hall  her  arms  shine  white. 

And  her  hair  falls  down  behind  her  like  a  cloak  of  the  sweet-breathed  night, 

As  she  casts  her  cloak  to  the  earth,  and  the  wind  of  the  flowery  tide 

Runs  over  her  rippling  raiment  and  stirs  the  gold  at  her  side. 

But  she  stands  and  may  scarce  move  forward,  and  a  red  flush  lighteth  her  face 

As  her  eyes  seek  out  Queen  Brynhild  in  the  height  of  the  golden  place. 

But  lo,  as  a  swan  on  the  sea  spreads  out  her  wings  to  arise 

From  the  face  of  the  darksome  ocean  when  the  isle  before  her  lies, 

So  Brynhild  arose  from  her  throne  and  the  fashioned  cloths  of  blue 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  153 

When  she  saw  the  Maid  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  face  of  Gudrun  knew ; 
And  she  gathers  the  laps  of  the  linen,  and  they  meet  in  the  hall,  they  twain, 
And  she  taketh  her  hands  in  her  hands  and  kisseth  her  sweet  and  fain : 
And  she  saith :  "  Hail  sister  and  queen  !  for  we  deem  thy  coming  kind  : 
Though  forsooth  the  hall  of  Brynhild  is  no  weary  way  to  find  : 
How  fare  the  kin  of  the  Niblungs  ?  is  thy  mother  happy  and  hale, 
And  the  ancient  of  days,  thy  father,  the  King  of  all  avail  ? " 

"  It  is  well  with  my  house,"  said  Gudrun,  "and  my  brethren's  days  are  fair, 

And  my  mother's  morns  are  joyous,  and  her  eyes  have  done  with  care ; 

And  my  father's  heart  is  happy,  and  the  Niblung  glory  grows, 

And  the  land  in  peace  is  lying  'neath  the  lily  and  the  rose  : 

But  love  and  the  mirth  of  summer  have  moved  my  heart  to  come 

To  look  on  thy  measureless  beauty,  and  seek  thy  glory  home." 

"  O  be  thou  welcome  !  "  said  Brynhild ;  "  it  is  good  when  queen-folk  meet 
Come  now,  O  goodly  sister,  and  sit  in  my  golden  seat : 
There  are  lovely  hours  before  us,  and  the  half  of  the  summer  day , 
And  what  is  the  night  of  summer  that  eve  should  drive  thee  away  ?  " 

So  they  sat,  they  twain,  in  the  high-seat ;  and  the  maidens  bore  them  wine, 

And  they  handled  Dwarf-wrought  treasures  with  their  fingers  fair  and  fine, 

And  lovely  they  were  together,  and  they  marvelled  each  at  each : 

Yet  oft  was  Gudrun  silent,  and  she  faltered  in  her  speech, 

As  they  matched  great  Kings  and  their  war-deeds,  and  told  of  times  that  were. 

And  their  fathers'  fathers'  doings,  and  the  deaths  of  war-lords  dear. 

And  at  last  the  twain  sat  silent,  and  spake  no  word  at  all. 

And  the  western  sky  waxed  ruddy,  for  the  sun  drew  near  its  fall ; 

And  the  speech  of  the  murmuring  maidens,  and  the  voice  of  the  toil  of  folk 

Died  out  in  the  hall  of  Brynhild  as  the  garden-song  awoke. 

Then  Brynhild  took  up  the  word,  and  her  voice  was  soft  as  she  said : 
**  We  have  told  of  the  best  of  King-folk,  the  living  and  the  dead ; 


154  THE  STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  hast  thou  heard,  my  sister,  how  the  world  grows  fair  with  the  word 

Of  a  King  from  the  mountains  coming,  a  great  and  marvellous  lord. 

Who  hath  slain  the  Foe  of  the  Gods,  and  the  King  that  was  wise  from  of  old ; 

Who  hath  slain  the  great  Gold-wallower,  and  gotten  the  ancient  Gold ; 

And  the  hand  of  victory  hath  he,  and  the  overcoming  speech, 

And  the  heart  and  the  eyes  triumphant,  and  the  lips  that  win  and  teach  ? " 

Then  met  the  eyes  of  the  women,  and  Brynhild's  word  died  out. 

And  bright  flushed  Gudrun's  visage,  and  her  lips  were  moved  with  doubt. 

But  again  spake  Brynhild  the  wise : 

"  He  is  come  of  a  marvellous  kin, 
And  of  men  that  never  faltered,  and  goodly  days  shall  he  win  : 
Yea  now  to  this  land  is  he  coming,  and  great  shall  be  his  fame  ; 
He  is  born  of  the  Volsung  King-folk,  and  Sigurd  is  his  name." 

Then  all  the  heart  laughed  in  her,  but  the  speech  of  her  lips  died  out. 
And  red  and  pale  waxed  Gudrun,  and  her  lips  were  moved  with  doubt, 
Till  she  spake  as  a  Queen  of  the  Earth : 

"  Sister,  the  day  grows  late. 
And  meseemeth  the  watch  of  the  earl-folk  looks  oft  from  the  Niblung  gate 
For  the  gleam  of  our  golden  wains  and  the  dust-cloud  thin  and  soft ; 
But  nought  shall  they  now  behold  them  till  the  moon-lamp  blazeth  aloft. 
Farewell,  and  have  thanks  for  thy  welcome  and  thy  glory  that  I  have  seen, 
And  I  bid  thee  come  to  the  Niblungs  while  the  summer-ways  are  green, 
That  we  thine  heart  may  gladden  as  thou  gladdenedst  ours  today." 

And  she  rose  and  kissed  her  sweetly  as  one  that  wendeth  away : 
But  Brynhild  looked  upon  her  and  said  :  "  Wilt  thou  depart, 
And  leave  the  word  unspoken  that  lieth  on  thine  heart  ?  " 

Then  Gudrun  faltered  and  spake  :  "Yea  hither  I  came  in  sooth, 

With  a  dream  for  thine  eyes  of  wisdom,  and  a  prayer  for  thine  heart  of  ruth  : 

But  young  in  the  world  am  I  waxen,  and  the  scorn  of  folk  I  fear 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  155 

When  I  speak  to  the  ears  of  the  wise,  and  a  maiden's  dream  they  hear." 

"  I  shall  mock  thee  nought,"  said  Brynhild  ;  "  yet  who  shall  say  indeed 
But  my  heart  shall  fear  thee  rather,  nor  help  thee  in  thy  need  ? " 

Then  spake  the  daughter  of  Giuki :  "  Lo,  this  was  the  dream  I  dreamed  : 

For  without  by  the  door  of  the  Niblungs  I  sat  in  the  morn,  as  meseemed ; 

Then  I  saw  a  falcon  aloft,  and  a  glorious  bird  he  was. 

And  his  feathers  glowed  as  the  gold,  and  his  eyes  as  the  sunlit  glass : 

Hither  and  thither  he  flew  about  the  kingdoms  of  Kings, 

And  fear  was  borne  before  him,  and  death  went  under  his  wings  : 

Yet  I  feared  him  not,  but  loved  him,  and  mine  eyes  must  follow  his  ways, 

And  the  joy  came  into  my  heart,  and  hope  of  the  happy  days  : 

Then  over  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  he  hung  a  little  space 

And  stooped  to  my  very  knees,  and  cried  out  kind  in  my  face  ; 

And  fain  and  full  was  my  heart,  and  I  took  him  to  my  breast. 

And  I  cherished  him  soft  and  warm,  for  I  deemed  I  had  gotten  the  best." 

So  speaketh  the  Maid  of  the  Niblungs,  and  speech  her  lips  doth  fail, 
And  she  gazeth  on  Brynhild's  visage,  and  seeth  her  waxen  pale, 
As  she  saith :  "  'Tis  a  dream  full  goodly,  and  nought  hast  thou  to  fear ; 
Some  glory  of  Kings  shall  love  thee  and  thine  heart  shall  hold  him  dear." 

Again  spake  the  daughter  of  Giuki :  "  Not  yet  hast  thou  hearkened  all : 
For  meseemed  my  breast  was  reddened,  as  oft  by  the  purple  and  pall, 
But  my  heart  was  heavy  within  it,  and  I  laid  my  hand  thereon, 
And  the  purple  of  blood  enwrapped  me,  and  the  falcon  I  loved  was  gone." 

Yet  pale  was  the  visage  of  Brynhild,  and  she  said  :  "  Is  it  then  so  strange 
That  the  wedding-lords  of  the  Niblungs  their  lives  in  the  battle  should  change? 
Thou  shalt  wed  a  King  and  be  merry,  and  then  shall  come  the  sword. 
And  the  edges  of  hate  shall  be  whetted  and  shall  slay  thy  love  and  thy  lord, 
And  dead  on  thy  breast  shall  he  fall :  and  where  then  is  the  measureless  moanf 


156  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

From  the  first  to  the  last  shalt  thou  have  him,  and  scarce  shall  he  die  alone. 

Rejoice  O  daughter  of  Giuki !  there  is  worse  in  the  world  than  this : 

He  shall  die,  and  thou  shalt  remember  the  days  of  his  glory  and  bliss."  • 

**I  woke,  and  I  wept,"  said  Gudrun,  "for  the  dear  thing  I  had  loved; 

Then  I  slept,  and  again  as  aforetime  were  the  gates  of  the  dream-hall  moved, 

And  I  went  in  the  land  of  shadows ;  and  lo  I  was  crowned  as  a  queen, 

And  I  sat  in  the  summer-season  amidst  my  garden  green ; 

And  there  came  a  hart  from  the  forest,  and  in  noble  wise  he  went, 

And  bold  he  was  to  look  on,  and  of  fashion  excellent 

Before  all  beasts  of  the  wild-wood ;  and  fair  gleamed  that  glorious-one, 

And  upreared  his  shining  antlers  against  the  very  sun. 

So  he  came  unto  me  and  I  loved  him,  and  his  head  lay  kind  on  my  knees. 

And  fair  methought  the  summer,  and  a  time  of  utter  peace. 

Then  darkened  all  the  heavens  and  dreary  grew  the  tide. 

And  medreamed  that  a  queen  I  knew  not  was  sitting  by  my  side. 

And  from  out  of  the  din  and  the  darkness,  a  hand  and  an  arm  there  came, 

And  a  golden  sleeve  was  upon  it,  and  red  rings  of  the  Queen-folk's  fame : 

And  the  hand  was  the  hand  of  a  woman :  and  there  came  a  sword  and  a  thrust 

And  the  blood  of  the  lovely  wood-deer  went  wide  about  the  dust. 

Then  I  cried  aloud  in  my  sorrow,  and  lo,  in  the  wood  I  was, 

And  all  around  and  about  me  did  the  kin  of  the  wild-wolves  pass, 

And  I  called  them  friends  and  kindred,  and  upreared  a  battle-brand. 

And  cried  out  in  a  tongue  that  I  knew  not,  and  red  and  wet  was  my  hand. 

Lo  now,  the  dream  I  have  told  thee,  and  nought  have  I  held  aback. 

O  Brynhild,  what  wilt  thou  tell  me  of  treason  and  murder  and  wrack  ? " 

Long  Brynhild  stood  and  pondered  and  weary-wise  was  her  face 

And  she  gazed  as  one  who  sleepeth,  till  thus  she  spake  in  a  space : 

"  One  dream  in  twain  hast  thou  told,  and  I  see  what  I  saw  e'en  now. 

But  beyond  is  nought  but  the  darkness  and  the  measureless  midnight's  flow 

Thy  dream  is  all  areded ;  I  may  tell  thee  nothing  more : 

Thou  shalt  live  and  love  and  lose,  and  mingle  in  murder  and  war. 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  157 

Is  it  strange,  O  child  of  the  Niblungs,  that  thy  glory  and  thy  pain 
Must  be  blent  with  the  battle's  darkness  and  the  unseen  hurrying  bane  ? 
Do  ye,  of  all  folk  on  the  earth,  pray  God  for  the  changeless  peace, 
And  not  for  the  battle  triumphant  and  the  fruit  of  fame's  increase  ? 
For  the  rest,  thou  mayst  not  be  lonely  in  thy  welfare  or  thy  woe. 
But  hearts  with  thine  heart  shall  be  tangled :  but  the  queen  and  the  hand 

thou  shalt  know, 
When  we  twain  are  wise  together ;  thou  shalt  know  of  the  sword  and  the  wood, 
Thou  shalt  know  of  the  wild-wolves'  howling  and  thy  right-hand  wet  with 
When  the  day  of  the  smith  is  ended,  and  the  stithy's  fire  dies  out,      [blood. 
And  the  work  of  the  master  of  masters  through  the  feast-hall  goeth  about." 

They  stand  apart  by  the  high-seat,  and  each  on  each  they  gaze 
As  though  they  forgat  the  summer,  and  the  tide  of  the  passing  days, 
And  abode  the  deeds  unborn  and  the  Kings'  death  yet  to  be, 
As  the  merchant  bideth  deedless  the  gold  in  his  ships  on  the  sea. 

At  last  spake  the  wise-heart  Brynhild :  "  O  glorious  Niblung  child 

The  dreams  and  the  word  we  have  hearkened,  and  the  dreams  and  the  word 

have  been  wild. 
Thou  hast  thy  life  and  the  summer,  and  the  love  is  drawing  anear ; 
Take  these  to  thine  heart  to  cherish,  and  deem  them  good  and  dear. 
Lest  the  Norns  should  mock  our  knowledge  and  cast  our  fame  aside, 
And  our  doom  be  empty  of  glory  as  the  hopeless  that  have  died. 
Farewell  O  Niblung  Maiden !  for  day  on  day  shall  come 
Whilst  thou  shalt  live  rejoicing  mid  the  blossom  of  thine  home. 
Now  have  thou  thanks  for  thy  greeting  and  thy  glory  that  I  have  seen ; 
And  come  thou  again  to  Lymdale  while  the  summer-ways  are  green." 

So  the  hall-dusk  deepens  upon  them  till  the  candles  come  arow. 
And  they  drink  the  wine  of  departing  and  gird  themselves  to  go ; 
And  they  dight  the  dark-blue  raiment  and  climb  to  the  wains  aloft 
While  the  horned  moon  hangs  in  the  heaven  and  the  summer  wind  blows  soft 


158  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Then  the  yoke-beasts  strained  at  the  collar,  and  the  dust  in  the  moon  arose, 
And  they  brushed  the  side  of  the  acre  and  the  blooming  dewy  close ; 
Till  at  last,  when  the  moon  was  sinking  and  the  night  was  waxen  late. 
The  warders  of  the  earl-folk  looked  forth  from  the  Niblung  gate. 
And  saw  the  gold  pale-gleaming,  and  heard  the  wain-wheels  crush 
The  weary  dust  of  the  summer  amidst  the  midnight  hush. 

So  came  the  daughter  of  Giuki  from  the  hall  of  Brynhild  the  queen 
When  the  days  of  the  Niblungs  blossomed  and  their  hope  was  springing  green. 


How  the  folk  of  Lymdale  met  Sigurd  the  Volsung  in  the  woodland. 

Full  fair  was  the  land  of  Lymdale,  and  great  were  the  men  thereof, 
And  Heimir  the  King  of  the  people  was  held  in  marvellous  love ; 
And  his  wife  was  the  sister  of  Brynhild,  and  the  Queen  of  Queens  was  she , 
And  his  sons  were  noble  striplings,  and  his  daughters  sweet  to  see ; 
And  all  these  lived  on  in  joyance  through  the  good  days  and  the  ill, 
Nor  would  shun  the  war's  awaking ;  but  now  that  the  war  was  still 
They  looked  to  the  wethers'  fleeces  and  what  the  ewes  would  yield. 
And  led  their  bulls  from  the  straw-stall,  and  drave  their  kine  afield ; 
And  they  dealt  with  mere  and  river  and  all  waters  of  their  land. 
And  cast  the  glittering  angle,  and  drew  the  net  to  the  strand. 
And  searched  the  rattling  shallows,  and  many  a  rock-walled  well. 
Where  the  silver-scaled  sea-farers,  and  the  crook-lipped  bull-trout  dwell. 
But  most  when  their  hearts  were  merry  'twas  the  joy  of  carle  and  quean 
To  ride  in  the  deeps  of  the  oak-wood,  and  the  thorny  thicket  green : 
Forth  go  their  hearts  before  them  to  the  blast  of  the  strenuous  horn, 
Where  the  level  sun  comes  dancing  down  the  oaks  in  the  early  morn : 
There  they  strain  and  strive  for  the  quarry,  when  the  wind  hath  fallen  dead 
In  the  odorous  dusk  of  the  pine-wood,  and  the  noon  is  high  o'erhead : 
There  oft  with  horns  triumphant  their  rout  by  the  lone  tree  turns, 
When  over  the  bison's  lea-land  the  last  of  sunset  burns ; 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  159 

Or  by  night  and  cloud  all  eager  with  shaft  on  string  they  fare, 
When  the  wind  from  the  elk-mead  setteth,  or  the  wood-boar's  tangled  lair : 
For  the  wood  is  their  barn  and  their  storehouse,  and  their  bower  and  feasting- 
And  many  an  one  of  their  warriors  in  the  woodland  war  shall  fall.        [hall. 

So  now  in  the  sweet  spring  season,  on  a  morn  of  the  sunny  tide 
Abroad  are  the  Lymdale  people  to  the  wood-deers'  house  to  ride : 
And  they  wend  toward  the  sun's  uprising,  and  over  the  boughs  he  comes. 
And  the  merry  wind  is  with  him,  and  stirs  the  woodland  homes  j     [glades, 
But  their  horns  to  his  face  cast  clamour,  and  their  hooves  shake  down  the 
And  the  hearts  of  their  hounds  are  eager,  and  oft  they  redden  blades : 
Till  at  last  in  the  noon  they  tarry  in  a  daisied  wood-lawn  green. 
And  good  and  gay  is  their  raiment,  and  their  spears  are  sharp  and  sheen. 
And  they  crown  themselves  with  the  oak-leaves,  and  sit,  both  most  and  least, 
And  there  on  the  forest  venison  and  the  ancient  wine  they  feast ; 
Then  they  wattle  the  twigs  of  the  thicket  to  bear  their  spoil  away, 
And  the  toughness  of  the  beech-boughs  with  the  woodbine  overlay : 
With  the  voice  of  their  merry  labour  the  hall  of  the  oakwood  rings, 
For  fair  they  are  and  joyous  as  the  first  God-fashioned  Kings. 

Now  they  gather  their  steeds  together,  that  ere  the  moon  is  born 

The  candles  of  King  Heimir  may  shine  on  harp  and  horn : 

But  as  they  stand  by  the  stirrup  and  hand  on  rein  is  laid. 

All  eyes  are  turned  to  beholding  the  eastward-lying  glade, 

For  thereby  comes  something  glorious,  as  though  an  earthly  sun 

Were  lit  by  the  orb  departing,  lest  the  day  should  be  wholly  done ; 

Lo  now,  as  they  stand  astonied,  a  wonder  they  behold. 

For  a  warrior  cometh  riding,  and  his  gear  is  all  of  gold ; 

And  grey  is  the  steed  and  mighty  beneath  that  lord  of  war. 

And  a  treasure  of  gold  he  beareth,  and  the  gems  of  the  ocean's  floor  : 

Now  they  deem  the  war-steed  wondrous  and  the  treasure  strange  they  deem. 

But  so  exceeding  glorious  doth  the  harnessed  rider  seem, 

That  men's  hearts  are  all  exalted  as  he  draweth  nigh  and  nighei 


i6o  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  theie  are  they  abiding  in  fear  and  great  desire : 
For  they  look  on  the  might  of  his  limbs,  and  his  waving  locks  they  see, 
And  his  glad  eyes  clear  as  the  heavens,  and  the  wreath  of  the  summer  tree 
That  girdeth  the  dread  of  his  war-helm,  and  they  wonder  at  his  sword, 
And  the  tinkling  rings  of  his  hauberk,  and  the  rings  of  the  ancient  Hoard : 
And  they  say :  Are  the  Gods  on  the  earth  ?  did  the  world  change  yester- 
Are  the  sons  of  Odin  coming,  and  the  days  of  Baldur  the  bright  ?     [night  ? 

But  forth  stood  Heimir  the  ancient,  and  of  Gods  and  men  was  he  chief 

Of  all  who  have  handled  the  harp ;  and  he  stood  betwixt  blossom  and  leaf, 

And  thrust  his  spear  in  the  earth  and  cast  abroad  his  hands : 

"  Hail  thou  that  ridest  hither  from  the  North  and  the  desert  lands ! 

Now  thy  face  is  turned  to  our  hall-door  and  thereby  must  be  thy  way ; 

And,  unless  the  time  so  presseth  that  thou  ridest  night  and  day, 

It  were  good  that  thou  lie  in  my  house,  and  hearken  the  clink  of  the  horn, 

Whether  peace  in  thy  hand  thou  bear  us,  or  war  on  thy  saddle  be  borne ; 

Whether  wealth  thou  seek,  or  friends,  or  kin,  or  a  maiden  lost, 

Or  hast  heart  for  the  building  of  cities  nor  wilt  hold  thee  aback  for  the  cost . 

If  fame  thou  wilt  have  among  King-folk,  to  the  land  of  the  Kings  art  thou 

come. 
Or  wouldst  thou  adown  to  the  sea-flood,  thou  must  pass  by  the  garth  of  our 

home. 
Yea  art  thou  a  God  from  the  heavens,  who  wilt  deem  me  little  of  worth. 
And  art  come  for  the  wrack  of  my  realm  and  wilt  cast  King  Heimir  forth, 
Thou  knowest  I  fear  thee  nothing,  and  no  worse  shall  thy  welcome  be : 
Or  art  thou  a  wolf  of  the  hearth,  none  here  shall  meddle  with  thee :  — 
Yet  lo,  as  I  look  on  thine  eyen,  and  behold  thy  hope  and  thy  mirth 
Meseems  thou  art  better  than  these,  some  son  of  the  Kings  of  the  Earth." 

Then  spake  the  treasure-bestrider,  —  for  his  horse  e'en  now  had  he  reined 
By  the  King  and  the  earls  of  the  people  where  the  boughs  of  the  thicket 
"  Yea  I  am  a  son  of  the  Kings  ;  but  my  kin  have  passed  away,  [waned  :— 
And  once  were  they  called  the  Volsungs,  and  the  sons  of  God  were  they : 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  i6i 

[  am  young,  but  have  learned  me  wisdom,  I  am  lone,  but  deeds  have  I  done  : 
I  have  slain  the  Foe  of  the  Gods,  and  the  Bed  of  the  Worm  have  I  won. 
But  meseems  that  the  earth  is  lovely,  and  that  each  day  springeth  anew 
And  beareth  the  blossom  of  hope,  and  the  fruit  of  deeds  to  do. 
And  herein  thou  sayest  the  sooth,  that  I  seek  the  fame  of  Kings, 
And  with  them  would  I  do  and  undo  and  be  heart  of  their  warfarmgs : 
And  for  this  o'er  the  Glittering  Heath  to  the  kingdoms  of  earth  am  I  come 
And  over  the  head  of  Hindfell,  and  I  seek  the  earl-folk's  home 
That  is  called  the  lea  of  Lymdale  'twixt  the  wood  and  the  water-side ; 
For  men  call  it  the  gate  of  the  world  where  the  Kings  of  Men  abide : 
Nor  the  least  of  God-folk  am  I,  nor  the  wolf  of  the  Kings  accursed, 
But  Sigurd  the  son  of  Sigmund  in  the  land  of  the  Helper  nursed : 
And  I  thank  thee,  lord,  for  thy  bidding,  and  tonight  will  I  bide  in  thine  hall, 
And  fare  on  the  morrow  to  Lymdale  and  the  deeds  thenceforward  to  fall." 

Then  Sigurd  leapt  from  Greyfell,  and  men  were  marvelling  there 
At  the  sound  of  his  sweet-mouthed  wisdom,  and  his  body  shapen  fair. 
But  Heimir  laughed  and  answered :  "  Now  soon  shall  the  deeds  befall, 
And  tonight  shalt  thou  ride  to  Lymdale  and  tonight  shalt  thou  bide  in  my 
For  I  am  the  ancient  Heimir,  and  my  cunning  is  of  the  harp,  [hall : 

Though  erst  have  I  dealt  in  the  sword-play  while  the  edge  of  war  was  sharp." 

Then  Sigurd  joyed  to  behold  him,  for  a  god-like  King  he  was, 
And  amid  the  men  of  Lymdale  did  the  Son  of  Sigmund  pass ; 
And  their  hearts  are  high  uplifted,  for  across  the  air  there  came 
A  breath  of  his  tale  half-spoken  and  the  tidings  of  his  fame  ; 
And  their  eyes  are  all  unsatiate  of  gazing  on  his  face. 
For  his  like  have  they  never  looked  on  for  goodliness  and  grace. 

So  they  bear  him  the  wine  of  welcome,  and  then  to  the  saddle  they  leap 
And  get  them  forth  from  the  wood-ways  to  the  lea-land  of  the  sheep, 
And  the  bull-fed  Lymdale  meadows ;  and  thereover  Sigurd  sees 
The  long  white  walls  of  Heimir  amidst  the  blossomed  trees  : 
II 


i62  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Then  the  slim  moon  rises  in  heaven,  and  the  stars  in  the  tree-tops  shine, 
But  the  golden  roof  of  Heimir  looks  down  on  the  torch-lit  wine, 
And  the  song  of  men  goes  roofward  in  praise  of  Sigmund's  Son, 
And  a  joy  to  the  Lymdale  people  is  his  glory  new-begun. 


How  Sigurd  met  Brynhild  in  Lytndak. 

So  there  abideth  Sigurd  with  the  Lymdale  forest-lords 

In  mighty  honour  holden,  and  in  love  beyond  all  words, 

And  thence  abroad  through  the  people  there  goeth  a  rumour  and  breath 

Of  the  great  Gold-wallower's  slaying,  and  the  tale  of  the  Glittering  Heath, 

And  a  word  of  the  ancient  Treasure  and  Greyfell's  gleaming  Load ; 

And  the  hearts  of  men  grew  eager,  and  the  coming  deeds  abode. 

But  warily  dealeth  Sigurd,  and  he  wends  in  the  woodland  fray 

As  one  whose  heart  is  ready  and  abides  a  better  day : 

In  the  woodland  fray  he  fareth,  and  oft  on  a  day  doth  ride 

Where  the  mighty  forest  wild-bulls  and  the  lonely  wolves  abide ; 

For  as  then  no  other  warfare  do  the  lords  of  Lymdale  know. 

And  the  axe-age  and  the  sword-age  seem  dead  a  while  ago, 

And  the  age  of  the  cleaving  of  shields,  and  of  brother  by  brother  slain, 

And  the  bitter  days  of  the  whoredom,  and  the  hardened  lust  of  gain ; 

But  man  to  man  may  hearken,  and  he  that  soweth  reaps, 

And  hushed  is  the  heart  of  Fenrir  in  the  wolf-den  of  the  deeps. 

Now  is  it  the  summer-season,  and  Sigurd  rideth  the  land. 

And  his  hound  runs  light  before  him,  and  his  hawk  sits  light  on  his  hand. 

And  all  alone  on  a  morning  he  rides  the  flowery  sward 

Betwixt  the  woodland  dwellings  and  the  house  of  Lymdale's  lord ; 

And  he  hearkens  Greyfell's  going  as  he  wends  adown  the  lea, 

And  his  heart  for  love  is  craving,  and  the  deeds  he  deems  shall  be ; 

And  he  hears  the  Wrath's  sheath  tinkling  as  he  rides  the  daisies  down, 

And  he  thinks  of  his  love  laid  safely  in  the  arms  of  his  renown. 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  163 

But  lo,  as  he  rides  the  meadows,  before  him  now  he  sees 

A  builded  burg  arising  amid  the  leafy  trees, 

And  a  white-walled  house  on  its  topmost  with  a  golden  roof-ridge  done, 

And  thereon  the  clustering  dove-kind  in  the  brightness  of  the  sun. 

So  Sigurd  stayed  to  behold  it,  for  the  heart  within  him  laughed. 

But  e'en  then,  as  the  arrow  speedeth  from  the  mighty  archer's  draught, 

Forth  fled  the  falcon  unhooded  from  the  hand  of  Sigurd  the  King, 

And  up,  and  over  the  tree-boughs  he  shot  with  steady  wing : 

Then  the  Volsung  followed  his  flight,  for  he  looked  to  see  him  fall 

On  the  fluttering  folk  of  the  doves,  and  he  cried  the  backward  call 

Full  oft  and  over  again ;  but  the  falcon  heeded  it  nought. 

Nor  turned  to  his  kingly  wrist-perch,  nor  the  folk  of  the  pigeons  sought. 

But  flew  up  to  a  high-built  tower,  and  sat  in  the  window  a  space, 

Crying  out  like  the  fowl  of  Odin  when  the  first  of  the  morning  they  face. 

And  then  passed  through  the  open  casement  as  an  erne  to  his  eyrie  goes 

Much  marvelled  the  Son  of  Sigmund,  and  rode  to  the  fruitful  close : 

For  he  said  :  Here  a  great  one  dwelleth,  though  none  have  told  me  thereof, 

And  he. shall  give  me  my  falcon,  and  his  fellowship  and  love. 

So  he  came  to  the  gate  of  the  garth,  and  forth  to  the  hall-door  rode, 

And  leapt  adown  from  Greyfell,  and  entered  that  fair  abode  ; 

For  full  lovely  was  it  fashioned,  and  great  was  the  pillared  hall. 

And  fair  in  its  hangings  were  woven  the  deeds  that  Kings  befall. 

And  the  merry  sun  went  through  it  and  gleamed  in  gold  and  horn ; 

But  afield  or  a-fell  are  its  carles,  and  none  labour  there  that  morn, 

And  void  it  is  of  the  maidens,  and  they  weave  in  the  bower  aloft, 

Or  they  go  in  the  outer  gardens  'twixt  the  rose  and  the  lily  soft : 

So  saith  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  and  a  door  in  the  corner  he  spies 

With  knots  of  gold  fair-carven,  and  the  graver's  masteries  : 

So  he  lifts  the  latch  and  it  opens,  and  he  comes  to  a  marble  stair. 

And  aloft  by  the  same  he  goeth  through  a  tower  wrought  full  fair. 

And  he  comes  to  a  door  at  its  topmost,  and  lo,  a  chamber  of  Kings, 


i64  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  his  falcon  there  by  the  window  with  all  unruffled  wings. 

But  a  woman  sits  on  the  high-seat  with  gold  about  her  head, 

And  ruddy  rings  on  her  arms,  and  the  grace  of  her  girdle-stead ; 

And  sunlit  is  her  rippled  linen,  and  the  green  leaves  lie  at  her  feet, 

And  e'en  as  a  swan  on  the  billow  where  the  firth  and  the  out-sea  meet, 

On  the  dark-blue  cloths  she  sitteth,  so  fair  and  softly  made 

Are  her  limbs  by  the  linen  hidden,  and  so  white  is  she  arrayed. 

But  a  web  of  gold  is  before  her,  and  therein  by  her  shuttle  wrought 

The  early  days  of  the  Volsungs  and  the  war  by  the  sea's  rim  fought. 

And  the  crowned  queen  over  Sigmund,  and  the  Helper's  pillared  hall, 

And  the  golden  babe  uplifted  to  the  eyes  of  duke  and  thrall ; 

And  there  was  the  slender  stripling  by  the  knees  of  the  Dwarf-folk's  lord, 

And  the  gift  of  the  ancient  Gripir,  and  the  forging  of  the  Sword ; 

And  there  were  the  coils  of  Fafnir,  and  the  hooded  threat  of  death. 

And  the  King  by  the  cooking-fire,  and  the  fowl  of  the  Glittering  Heath ; 

And  there  was  the  headless  King-smith  and  the  golden  halls  of  the  Worm, 

And  the  laden  Greyfell  faring  through  the  land  of  perished  storm ; 

And  there  was  the  head  of  Hindfell,  and  the  flames  to  the  sky-floor  driven ; 

And  there  was  the  glittering  shield-burg,  and  the  fallow  bondage  riven ; 

And  there  was  the  wakening  woman  and  the  golden  Volsung  done, 

And  they  twain  o'er  the  earthly  kingdoms  in  the  lonely  evening  sun : 

And  there  were  fells  and  forests,  and  towns  and  tossing  seas, 

And  the  Wrath  and  the  golden  Sigurd  for  ever  blent  with  these, 

In  the  midst  of  the  battle  triumphant,  in  the  midst  of  the  war-kings'  fall. 

In  the  midst  of  the  peace  well-conquered,  in  the  midst  of  the  praising  hall. 

There  Sigurd  stood  and  marvelled,  for  he  saw  his  deeds  that  had  been, 
And  his  deeds  of  the  days  that  should  be,  fair-wrought  in  the  golden  sheen  ^ 
And  he  looked  in  the  face  of  the  woman,  and  Brynhild's  eyes  he  knew. 
But  still  in  the  door  he  tarried,  and  so  glad  and  fair  he  grew. 
That  the  Gods  laughed  out  in  the  heavens  to  see  the  Volsung's  seed ; 
And  the  breeze  blew  in  from  the  summer  and  over  Brynhild's  weed, 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  165 

Till  his  heart  so  swelled  with  the  sweetness  that  the  fair  word  stayed  in  his 

mouth, 
And  a  marvel  beloved  he  seemeth,  as  a  ship  new-come  from  the  south: 
And  still  she  longed  and  beheld  him,  nor  foot  nor  hand  she  moved 
As  she  marvelled  at  her  gladness,  and  her  love  so  well  beloved. 

But  at  last  through  the  sounds  of  summer  the  voice  of  Sigurd  came, 
And  it  seemed  as  a  silver  trumpet  from  the  house  of  the  fateful  fame ; 
And  he  spake  :  "  Hail  lady  and  queen !  hail,  fairest  of  all  the  earth ! 
Is  it  well  with  the  hap  of  thy  life-days,  and  thy  kin  and  the  house  of  thy 

[birth?" 
She  said  :  *'  My  kin  is  joyous,  and  my  house  is  blooming  fair. 
And  dead,  both  root  and  branches,  is  the  tree  of  their  travail  and  care." 

He  spake :  "I  have  longed,  I  have  wondered  if  thy  heart  were  well  at  ease, 
If  the  hope  of  thy  days  had  blossomed  and  borne  thee  fair  increase." 

"  O  have  thou  thanks,"  said  Brynhild,  "  for  thine  heart  that  speaketh  kind  I 
Yea,  the  hope  of  my  days  is  accomplished,  and  no  more  there  is  to  find." 

And  again  she  spake  in  a  space  :  "The  road  hath  been  weary  and  long. 
But  well  hast  thou  ridden  it,  Sigurd,  and  the  sons  of  God  are  strong." 

He  said  :  "  I  have  sought,  O  Brynhild,  and  found  the  heart  of  thine  home ; 
And  no  man  hath  asked  or  holpen,  and  all  unbidden  I  come." 

She  said:  "O  welcome  hither  !  for  the  heart  of  the  King  I  knew, 
And  thine  hope  that  overcometh,  and  thy  will  that  nought  shall  undo." 

"Unbidden  I  came,"  he  answered,  "yet  it  is  but  a  little  space  [face." 

Since  I  heard  thy  voice  on  the  mountain,  and  thy  kind  lips  cherished  my 

She  rose  from  the  dark-blue  raiment,  and  trembling  there  she  stood, 


i66  THE  STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  no  word  her  lips  had  gotten  that  her  heart  might  deem  it  good : 
And  his  heart  went  forth  to  meet  her,  yet  nought  he  moved  for  a  while, 
Until  the  God-kin's  laughter  brake  blooming  from  a  smile 
And  he  cried  :  "  It  is  good,  O  Brynhild,  that  we  draw  exceeding  near, 
Lest  Odin  mock  Kings'  children  that  the  doom  of  fate  they  fear." 

[came, 
Then  forth  she  stepped  from  the  high-seat,  and  forth  from  the  threshold  he 
Till  both  their  bodies  mingling  seemed  one  glory  and  the  same, 
And  far  o'er  all  fulfillment  did  the  souls  within  them  long, 
As  at  breast  and  at  lips  of  the  faithful  the  earthly  love  strained  strong ; 
And  fresh  from  the  deeps  of  the  summer  the  breeze  across  them  blew, 
But  nought  of  the  earth's  desire,  or  the  lapse  of  time  they  knew. 

Then  apart,  but  exceeding  nigh,  for  a  little  while  they  stand. 
Till  Brynhild  toucheth  her  lord,  and  taketh  his  hand  in  her  hand. 
And  she  leadeth  him  through  the  chamber,  and  sitteth  down  in  her  seat ; 
And  him  she  setteth  beside  her,  and  she  saith : 

"  It  is  right  and  meet 
That  thou  sit  in  this  throne  of  my  fathers,  since  thy  gift  today  I  have : 
Thou  hast  given  it  altogether,  nor  aught  from  me  wouldst  save ; 
And  thou  knowest  the  tale  of  women,  how  oft  it  haps  on  a  day 
That  of  such  gifts  men  repent  them,  and  their  lives  are  cast  away." 

He  said :  "I  have  cast  it  away  as  the  tiller  casteth  the  seed, 

That  the  summer  may  better  the  spring-tide,  and  the  autumn  winter's  need  ; 

For  what  were  the  fruit  of  our  lives  if  apart  they  needs  must  pass, 

And  men  shall  say  hereafter :  Woe  worth  the  hope  that  was  1 " 

She  said :  "  That  day  shall  dawn  the  best  of  all  earthly  days 
When  we  sit,  we  twain,  in  the  high-seat  in  the  hall  of  the  people's  praise : 
Or  else,  what  fruit  of  our  life-days,  what  fruit  of  our  death  shall  be  ? 
What  fruit,  save  men's  remembrance  of  the  grief  of  thee  and  me  ? " 

He  said :  "  It  is  sharper  to  bear  than  the  bitter  sword  in  the  breast. 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  167 

O  woe,  to  think  of  it  now  in  the  days  of  our  gleaning  of  rest !  " 

Said  Brynhild:  "I  bid  thee  remember  the  word  that  I  have  sworn, 
How  the  sun  shall  turn  to  blackness,  and  the  last  day  be  outworn 
Ere  I  forget  thee,  Sigurd,  and  the  kindness  of  thy  face." 

And  they  kissed  and  the  day  grew  later  and  noon  failed  the  golden  place. 

But  Sigurd  said :  "  O  Brynhild,  remember  how  I  swore 

That  the  sun  should  die  in  the  heavens  and  day  come  back  no  more, 

Ere  I  forget  thy  wisdom  and  thine  heart  of  inmost  love. 

Lo  now,  shall  I  unsay  it,  though  the  Gods  be  great  above. 

Though  my  life  should  last  for  ever,  though  I  die  tomorrow  morn, 

Though  I  win  the  realm  of  the  world,  though  I  sink  to  the  thrall-folk's  scorn?" 

She  said  :  "  Thou  shalt  never  unsay  it,  and  thy  heart  is  mine  indeed  : 
Thou  shalt  bear  my  love  in  thy  bosom  as  thou  helpest  the  earth-folk's  need  : 
Thou  shalt  wake  to  it  dawning  by  dawning;   thou  shalt  sleep  and  it  shall 

not  be  strange : 
There  is  none  shall  thrust  between  us  till  our  earthly  lives  shall  change. 
Ah,  my  love  shall  fare  as  a  banner  in  the  hand  of  thy  renown. 
In  the  arms  of  thy  fame  accomplished  shall  it  lie  when  we  lay  us  adown. 
O  deathless  fame  of  Sigurd  !  O  glory  of  my  lord  ! 
O  birth  of  the  happy  Brynhild  to  the  measureless  reward !  " 

So  they  sat  as  the  day  grew  dimmer,  and  they  looked  on  days  to  come, 
And  the  fair  tale  speeding  onward,  and  the  glories  of  their  home  ; 
And  they  saw  their  crownbd  children  and  the  kindred  of  the  kings, 
And  deeds  in  the  world  arising  and  the  day  of  better  things  : 
All  the  earthly  exaltation,  till  their  pomp  of  life  should  be  passed, 
And  soft  on  the  bosom  of  God  their  love  should  be  laid  r^t  the  last. 

Bui  when  words  have  a  long  while  failed  them,  and  the  night  is  nigh  at  hand^ 
They  arise  in  the  golden  glimmer,  and  apart  and  anigh  they  stand : 


i68  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Then  Brynhild  stooped  to  the  Wrath,  and  touched  the  hilts  of  the  sword, 
Ere  she  wound  her  arms  round  Sigurd  and  cherished  the  lips  of  her  lord : 
Then  sweet  were  the  tears  of  Brynhild,  and  fast  and  fast  they  fell, 
And  the  love  that  Sigurd  uttered,  what  speech  of  song  may  tell  ? 

But  he  turned  and  departed  from  her,  and  her  feet  on  the  threshold  abode 
As  he  went  through  the  pillared  feast-hall,  and  forth  to  the  night  he  rode : 
So  he  turned  toward  the  dwelling  of  Heimir  and  his  love  and  his  fame 

seemed  one, 
And  all  full-well  accomplished,  what  deeds  soe'er  were  done ; 
And  the  love  that  endureth  forever,  and  the  endless  hope  he  bore, 
As  he  faced  the  change  of  Heaven  and  the  chance  of  worldly  war. 

Of  Sigurd^ s  riding  to  the  Niblungs. 

What  aileth  the  men  of  Lymdale,  that  their  house  is  all  astir  ? 
Shall  the  hunt  be  up  in  the  forest,  or  hath  the  shield-hung  fir 
Brought  war  from  the  outer  ocean  to  their  fish-belovbd  stream  ? 
Or  have  the  piping  shepherds  beheld  the  war-gear  gleam 
Adown  the  flowery  sheep-dales  ?  or  betwixt  the  poplars  grey 
Have  the  neat-herds  seen  the  banners  of  the  drivers  of  the  prey? 

No,  the  forest  shall  be  empty  of  the  Lymdale  men  this  morn. 

And  the  wells  of  the  Lymdale  river  have  heard  no  battle-horn. 

Nor  the  sheep  in  the  flowery  hollows  seen  any  painted  shield, 

And  nought  from  the  fear  of  warriors  bide  the  neat-herds  from  the  field  ; 

Yet  full  is  the  hall  of  Heimir  with  eager  earls  of  war, 

And  the  long-locked  happy  shepherds  are  gathered  round  the  door, 

And  the  smith  has  left  his  stithy,  and  the  wife  has  left  her  rock. 

And  the  bright  thrums  hang  unwinded  by  the  maiden's  weaving-stock  ; 

And  there  is  the  wife  and  the  maiden,  the  elder  and  the  boy ; 

And  scarce  shall  you  tell  what  moves  them,  much  sorrow  or  great  joy. 

But  lo,  as  they  gather  and  hearken  by  the  door  of  Heimir's  hall, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  169 

The  wave  of  a  mighty  music  on  the  souls  of  men  doth  fall, 

And  they  bow  their  heads  and  hush  them,  because  for  a  dear  guest's  sake 

Is  Heimir's  hand  in  the  harp-strings  and  the  ancient  song  is  awake. 

And  the  words  of  the  Gods'  own  fellow,  and  the  hope  of  days  gone  by ; 

Then  deep  is  that  song-speech  laden  with  the  deeds  that  draw  anigh, 

And  many  a  hope  accomplished,  and  many  an  unhoped  change. 

And  things  of  all  once  spoken,  now  grown  exceeding  strange ; 

Then  keen  as  the  battle-piercer  the  stringbd  speech  arose. 

And  the  hearts  of  men  went  with  it,  as  of  them  that  meet  the  foes ; 

Then  soared  the  song  triumphant  as  o'er  the  world  well  won, 

Till  sweet  and  soft  it  ended  as  a  rose  falls  'neath  the  sun ; 

But  thereafter  was  there  silence  till  the  earls  cast  up  the  shout. 

And  the  whole  house  clashed  and  glittered  as  the  tramp  of  men  bore  out, 

And  folk  fell  back  before  them ;  then  forth  the  earl-folk  pour, 

And  forth  comes  Heimir  the  Ancient  and  stands  by  his  fathers'  door  • 

And  then  is  the  feast-hall  empty  and  none  therein  abides ; 

For  forth  on  the  cloudy  Gre3rfell  the  Son  of  Sigmund  rides, 

And  the  Helm  of  Awe  he  beareth,  and  the  Mail-coat  all  of  gold, 

That  hath  not  its  like  in  the  heavens  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told. 

And  the  Wrath  to  his  side  is  girded,  though  the  peace-strings  wind  it  round 

Yet  oft  and  again  it  singeth,  and  strange  is  its  sheathed  sound : 

But  beneath  the  King  in  his  war-gear,  and  beneath  the  wondrous  Sword 

Are  the  red  wings  of  the  Treasure,  and  the  gems  of  Andvari's  Hoard, 

And  light  goes  Greyfell  beneath  it,  and  oft  and  o'er  again 

He  neighs  out  hope  of  battle,  for  the  heart  of  the  beast  is  fain. 

So  there  sitteth  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  and  is  dight  to  ride  his  ways. 
For  the  world  lies  fair  before  him  and  the  field  of  the  people's  praise ; 
And  he  kisseth  the  ancient  Heimir,  and  haileth  the  folk  of  the  land. 
And  he  crieth  kind  and  joyous  as  the  reins  lie  loose  in  his  hand : 
"  Farewell,  O  folk  of  Lymdale,  and  your  joy  of  the  summer-tide  ! 
For  the  acres  whiten,  meseemeth,  and  the  harvest-field  is  wide  : 
Who  knows  of  the  toil  that  shall  be,  when  the  reaping-hook  gleams  grey 
And  the  knees  of  the  strong  are  loosened  in  the  afternoon  of  day? 


lyo  THE  STORY  OF  SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Who  knows  of  the  joy  that  shall  be,  when  the  reaper  cometh  again, 
And  his  sheaves  are  crowned  with  the  blossoms,  and  the  song  goes  up  from 
But  now  let  the  Gods  look  to  it,  to  hinder  or  to  speed !  [the  wain  ? 

But  the  love  and  the  longing  I  know,  and  I  know  the  hand  and  the  deed." 

And  he  gathered  the  reins  together,  and  set  his  face  to  the  road. 

And  the  glad  steed  neighed  beneath  him  as  they  fared  from  the  King's  abode, 

And  out  past  the  dewy  closes ;  but  the  shouts  went  up  to  the  sky, 

Though  some  for  very  sorrow  forbore  the  farewell  cry, 

Nor  was  any  man  but  heavy  that  the  godlike  guest  should  go ; 

And  they  craved  for  that  glad  heart  guileless,  and  that  face  without  a  foe. 

But  Greyfell  fareth  onward,  and  back  to  the  dusky  hall 

Now  goeth  the  ancient  Heimir,  and  back  to  bower  and  stall, 

And  back  to  hammer  and  shuttle  go  earl  and  carle  and  quean ; 

And  piping  in  the  noon-tide  adown  the  hollows  green 

Go  the  yellow-headed  shepherds  amidst  the  scattered  sheep ; 

And  all  hearts  a  dear  remembrance  and  a  hope  of  Sigurd  keep. 

But  forth  by  dale  and  lealand  doth  the  Son  of  Sigmund  wend. 
Till  far  away  lies  Lymdale  and  the  folk  of  the  forest's  end ; 
And  he  rides  a  heath  unpeopled  and  holds  the  westward  way, 
Till  a  long  way  off  before  him  come  up  the  mountains  grey ; 
Grey,  huge  beyond  all  telling,  and  the  host  of  the  heaped  clouds. 
The  black  and  the  white  together,  on  that  rock-wall's  coping  crowds ; 
But  whiles  are  rents  athwart  them,  and  the  hot  sun  pierceth  through. 
And  there  glow  the  angry  cloud-caves  'gainst  the  everlasting  blue. 
And  the  changeless  snow  amidst  it ;  but  down  from  that  cloudy  head 
The  scars  of  fires  that  have  been  show  grim  and  dusky-red ; 
ALud  lower  yet  are  the  hollows  striped  down  by  the  scanty  green. 
And  lingering  flecks  of  the  cloud-host  are  tangled  there-between. 
White,  pillowy,  lit  by  the  sun,  unchanged  by  the  drift  of  the  wind. 

Long  Sigurd  looked  and  marvelled,  and  up-raised  his  heart  and  his  mind  j 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  171 

For  he  deemed  that  beyond  that  rock-wall  bode  his  changed  love  and  life 

On  the  further  side  of  the  battle,  and  the  hope,  and  the  shifting  strife : 

So  up  and  down  he  rideth,  till  at  even  of  the  day 

A  hill's  brow  he  o'ertoppeth  that  had  hid  the  mountains  grey ;  [there, 

Huge,  blacker  they  showed  than  aforetime,  white  hung  the  cloud-flecks 

But  red  was  the  cloudy  crown,  for  the  sun  was  sinking  fair  : 

A  wide  plain  lay  beneath  him,  and  a  river  through  it  wound 

Betwixt  the  lea  and  the  acres,  and  the  misty  orchard  ground ; 

But  forth  from  the  feet  of  the  mountains  a  ridgbd  hill  there  ran 

That  upreared  at  its  hithermost  ending  a  builded  burg  of  man ; 

And  Sigurd  deemed  in  his  heart  as  he  looked  on  the  burg  from  afar, 

That  the  high  Gods  scarce  might  win  it,  if  thereon  they  fell  with  war ; 

So  many  and  great  were  the  walls,  so  bore  the  towers  on  high 

The  threat  of  guarded  battle,  and  the  tale  of  victory. 

Then  swift  he  hasteneth  downward,  lest  day  be  wholly  spent 

Ere  he  come  to  the  gate  well  warded,  and  the  walls'  beleaguerment ; 

For  his  heart  is  eager  to  hearken  what  men-folk  therein  dwell 

And  the  name  of  that  noble  dwelling,  and  the  tale  that  it  hath  to  tell. 

So  he  rides  by  the  tilth  of  the  acres,  'twixt  the  overhanging  trees, 

And  but  seldom  now  and  again  a  glimpse  of  the  burg  he  sees,        [bridge ; 

Till  he  comes  to  the  flood  of  the  river,  and  looks  up  from  the  balks  of  the 

Then  how  was  the  plain  grown  little  'neath  that  mighty  burg  of  the  ridge 

O'erhung  by  the  cloudy  mountains  and  the  ash  of  another  day, 

Whereto  the  slopes  clomb  upward  till  the  green  died  out  in  the  grey. 

And  the  grey  in  the  awful  cloud-land,  where  the  red  rents  went  and  came 

Round  the  snows  no  summers  minish  and  the  far-off  sunset  flame : 

But  lo,  the  burg  at  the  ridge-end  !  have  the  Gods  been  building  again 

Since  they  watched  the  aimless  Giants  pile  up  the  wall  of  the  plain, 

The  house  for  none  to  dwell  in  ?     Or  in  what  days  lived  the  lord 

Who  'neath  those  thunder-forges  upreared  that  battle's  ward } 

Or  was  not  the  Smith  at  his  work,  and  the  blast  of  his  forges  awake, 

And  the  world's  heart  poured  from  the  mountain  for  that  ancient  people's 

For  as  waves  on  the  iron  river  of  the  days  whereof  nothing  is  told     [sake  f 


172  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Stood  up  the  many  towers,  so  stark  and  sharp  and  cold ; 

But  dark-red  and  worn  and  ancient  as  the  midmost  mountain-sides 

Is  the  wall  that  goeth  about  them  ;  and  its  mighty  compass  hides 

Full  many  a  dwelling  of  man  whence  the  reek  now  goeth  aloft, 

And  the  voice  of  the  house-abiders,  the  sharp  sounds  blent  with  the  soft : 

But  one  house  in  the  midst  is  unhidden  and  high  up  o'er  the  wall  it  goes  j 

Aloft  in  the  wind  of  the  mountains  its  golden  roof-ridge  glows, 

And  down  mid  its  buttressed  feet  is  the  wind's  voice  never  still  j 

And  the  day  and  the  night  pass  o'er  it  and  it  changes  to  their  will, 

And  whiles  is  it  glassy  and  dark,  and  whiles  is  it  white  and  dead. 

And  whiles  is  it  grey  as  the  sea-mead,  and  whiles  is  it  angry  red ;     [storm, 

And  it  shimmers  under  the  sunshine  and  grows  black  to  the  threat  of  the 

And  dusk  its  gold  roof  glimmers  when  the  rain-clouds  over  it  swarm, 

And  bright  in  the  first  of  the  morning  its  flame  doth  it  uplift. 

When  the  light  clouds  rend  before  it  and  along  its  furrows  drift. 

Upriseth  the  heart  of  Sigurd,  but  ever  he  rideth  forth 

Till  he  comes  to  the  garth  and  the  gateway  built  up  in  the  face  of  the  north : 

Then  e'en  as  a  wind  from  the  mountains  he  heareth  the  warders'  speech, 

As  aloft  in  the  mighty  towers  they  clamour  each  to  each  : 

Then  horn  to  horn  blew  token,  and  far  and  shrill  they  cried. 

And  he  heard,  as  the  fishers  hearken  the  cliff-fowl  over  the  tide : 

But  he  rode  in  under  the  gate,  that  was  long  and  dark  as  a  cave 

Bored  out  in  the  isles  of  the  northland  by  the  beat  of  the  restless  wave  ; 

And  the  noise  of  the  winds  was  within  it,  and  the  sound  of  swords  unseen. 

As  the  night  when  the  host  is  stirring  and  the  hearts  of  Kings  are  keen. 

But  no  man  stayed  or  hindered,  and  the  dusk  place  knew  his  smile, 

And  into  the  court  of  the  warriors  he  came  forth  afier  a  while, 

And  looked  aloft  to  the  hall-roof,  high  up  and  grey  as  the  cloud, 

For  the  sun  was  wholly  perished ;  and  there  he  crieth  aloud : 

"  Ho,  men  of  this  mighty  burg,  to  what  folk  of  the  world  am  I  come  ? 
And  who  is  the  King  of  battles  who  dwells  in  this  lordly  home  ? 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  173 

Or  perchance  are  ye  of  the  Elf-kin  ?  are  ye  guest-fain,  kind  at  the  board, 
Or  murder-churls  and  destroyers  to  gain  and  die  by  the  sword  ? " 

Then  the  spears  in  the  forecourt  glittered  and  the  swords  shone  over  the  wall. 
But  the  song  of  smitten  harp-strings  came  faint  from  the  cloudy  hall. 
And  he  hearkened  a  voice  and  a  crying :  "  The  house  of  Giuki  the  King, 
And  the  Burg  of  the  Niblung  people  and  the  heart  of  their  warfaring." 
There  were  many  men  about  him,  and  the  wind  in  the  wall-nook  sang, 
And  the  spears  of  the  Niblungs  glittered,  and  the  swords  in  the  forecourt  rang. 
But  they  looked  on  his  face  in  the  even,  and  they  hushed  their  voices  and 
For  fear  and  great  desire  the  hearts  of  men  amazed.  [gazed, 

Now  cometh  an  earl  to  King  Giuki  as  he  sits  in  godlike  wise 

With  his  sons,  the  Kings  of  battle,  and  his  wife  of  the  glittering  eyes,    , 

And  the  King  cries  out  at  his  coming  to  tell  why  the  watch-horns  blew ; 

But  the  earl  saith  :  "  Lord  of  the  people,  choose  now  what  thou  wilt  do ; 

For  here  is  a  strange  new-comer,  and  he  saith,  to  thee  alone  [done. 

Will  he  tell  of  his  name  and  his  kindred,  and  the  deeds  that  his  hand  hath 

Bnt  he  beareth  a  Helm  of  Aweing  and  a  Hauberk  all  of  gold. 

That  hath  not  its  like  in  the  heavens  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told ; 

And  strange  is  all  his  raiment,  and  he  beareth  a  Dwarf-wrought  sword, 

And  his  war-steed  beareth  beneath  him  red  rings  of  a  mighty  Hoard, 

And  the  ancient  gems  of  the  sea-floor  :  there  he  sits  on  his  cloud-grey  steed, 

And  his  eyes  are  bright  in  the  even,  and  we  deem  him  mighty  indeed, 

And  our  hearts  are  upraised  at  his  coming ;  but  how  shall  I  tell  thee  or  say 

If  he  be  a  King  of  the  Kings  and  a  lord  of  the  earthly  day, 

Or  if  rather  the  Gods  be  abroad  and  he  be  one  of  these  ? 

But  forsooth  no  battle  he  biddeth,  nor  craveth  he  our  peace. 

So  choose  herein,  King  Giuki,  wilt  thou  bid  the  man  begone 

To  his  house  of  the  earth  or  the  heavens,  lest  a  worser  deed  be  won, 

Or  wilt  thou  bid  him  abide  in  the  Niblung  peace  and  love  ? 

And  meseems  if  thus  thou  doest,  thou  shalt  never  repent  thee  thereof." 

Then  uprose  the  King  of  the  Niblungs,  and  was  clad  in  purple  and  pall, 


174  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  his  sheathed  sword  lay  in  his  hand,  as  he  gat  him  adown  the  hall, 

And  abroad  through  the  Niblung  doorway ;  and  a  mighty  man  he  was, 

And  wise  and  ancient  of  days  :  so  there  by  the  earls  doth  he  pass, 

And  beholdeth  the  King  on  the  war-steed  and  looketh  up  in  his  face : 

But  Sigurd  smileth  upon  him  in  the  Niblungs'  fenced  place. 

As  the  King  saith :  "  Gold-bestrider,  who  into  our  garth  wouldst  ride, 

Wilt  thou  tell  thy  name  to  a  King,  who  biddeth  thee  here  abide 

And  have  all  good  at  our  hands  ?  for  unto  the  Niblungs'  home 

And  the  heart  of  a  war-fain  people  from  the  weary  road  are  ye  come ; 

And  I  am  Giuki  the  King :  so  now  if  thou  nam'st  thee  a  God, 

Look  not  to  see  me  tremble ;  for  I  know  of  such  that  hath  trod 

Unfeared  in  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs ;  nor  worser,  nor  better  at  all 

May  fare  the  folk  of  the  Gods  than  the  Kings  in  Giuki's  hall ; 

So  I  bid  thee  abide  in  my  house,  and  when  many  days  are  o'er, 

Thou  shalt  tell  us  at  last  of  thine  errand,  if  thou  bear  us  peace  or  war." 

Then  all  rejoiced  at  his  word  till  the  swords  on  the  bucklers  rang, 
And  adown  from  the  red-gold  Treasure  the  Son  of  Sigmund  sprang, 
And  he  took  the  hand  of  Giuki,  and  kissed  him  soft  and  sweet. 
And  spake  :  "  Hail,  ancient  of  days  !  for  thou  biddest  me  things  most  me^t, 
And  thou  knowest  the  good  from  the  evil :  few  days  are  over  and  gone 
Since  my  father  was  old  in  the  world  ere  the  deed  of  my  making  was  wo^^  •; 
But  Sigmund  the  Volsung  he  was,  full  ripe  of  years  and  of  fame  ; 
And  I,  who  have  never  beheld  him,  am  Sigurd  called  of  name ; 
Too  young  in  the  world  am  I  waxen  that  a  tale  thereof  should  be  told, 
And  yet  have  I  slain  the  Serpent,  and  gotten  the  Ancient  Gold, 
And  broken  the  bonds  of  the  weary,  and  ridden  the  Wavering  Fire. 
But  short  is  mine  errand  to  tell,  and  the  end  of  my  desire : 
For  peace  I  bear  unto  thee,  and  to  all  the  kings  of  the  earth. 
Who  bear  the  sword  aright,  and  are  crowned  with  the  crown  of  worth ; 
But  unpeace  to  the  lords  of  evil,  and  the  battle  and  the  death ;       [breath ; 
And  the  edge  of  the  sword  to  the  traitor,  and  the  flame  to  the  slanderous 
And  I  would  that  the  loving  were  loved,  and  I  would  that  the  weary  should 
sleep, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  175 

And  that  man  should  hearken  to  man,  and  that  he  that  soweth  should  reap. 
Now  wide  in  the  world  would  I  fare,  to  seek  the  dwellings  of  Kings, 
For  with  them  would  I  do  and  undo,  and  be  heart  of  their  warfarings ; 
So  I  thank  thee,  lord,  for  thy  bidding,  and  here  in  thine  house  will  I  bide, 
And  learn  of  thine  ancient  wisdom  till  forth  to  the  field  we  ride." 

Glad  then  was  the  murmur  of  folk,  for  the  tidings  had  gone  forth. 
And  its  breath  had  been  borne  to  the  Niblungs,  and  the  tale  of  Sigurd's  worth. 
But  the  King  said  :  "  Welcome,  Sigurd,  full  fair  of  deed  and  of  word  ! 
And  here  mayst  thou  win  thee  fellows  for  the  days  of  the  peace  and  the  sword ; 
For  not  lone  in  the  world  have  I  lived,  but  sons  from  my  loins  have  sprung. 
Whose  deeds  with  the  rhyme  are  mingled,  and  their  names  with  the  people's 

[tongue." 
Then  he  took  his  hand  in  his  hand,  and  into  the  hall  they  passed. 
And  great  shouts  of  salutation  to  the  cloudy  roof  were  cast ; 
And  they  rang  from  the  glassy  pillars,  and  the  Gods  on  the  hangings  stirred. 
And  afar  the  clustering  eagles  on  the  golden  roof-ridge  heard, 
And  cried  out  on  the  Sword  of  the  Branstock  as  they  cried  in  the  other  days : 
Then  the  harps  rang  out  in  the  hall^  and  men  sang  in  Sigurd's  praise ; 
And  a  flood  of  great  remembrance,  and  the  tales  of  the  years  gone  by 
Swept  over  the  soul  of  Sigurd,  and  his  fathers  seemed  anigh ; 
And  he  looked  to  the  cloudy  hall-roof,  and  anigh  seemed  Odin  the  Goth, 
And  the  Valkyrs  holding  the  garland,  and  the  crown  of  love  and  of  troth ; 
And  his  soul  swells  up  exalted,  and  he  deems  that  high  above, 
In  the  glorious  house  of  the  heavens,  are  the  outstretched  hands  of  his  love , 
And  she  stoops  to  the  cloudy  feast-hall,  and  the  wavering  wind  is  her  voice, 
And  her  odorous  breath  floats  round  him,  as  she  bids  her  King  rejoice. 

But  now  on  the  dais  he  meeteth  the  kin  of  Giuki  the  wise : 

Lo,  here  is  the  crownbd  Grimhild,  the  queen  of  the  glittering  eyes ; 

Lo,  here  is  the  goodly  Gunnar  with  the  face  of  a  king's  desire ; 

Lo,  here  is  Hogni  that  holdeth  the  wisdom  tried  in  the  fire ; 

Lo,  here  is  Guttorm  the  youngest,  who  longs  for  the  meeting  swords ; 


176  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE   VOLSUNG. 

Lo,  here,  as  a  rose  in  the  oak-boughs,  amid  the  Niblung  lords 

Is  the  Maid  of  the  Niblungs  standing,  the  white-armed  Giuki's  child ; 

And  all  these  looked  long  on  Sigurd  and  their  hearts  upon  him  smiledv 

So  Grimhild  greeted  the  guest,  and  she  deemed  him  fair  and  sweet, 

And  she  deemed  him  mighty  of  men,  and  a  king  for  the  queen-folk  meet. 

Then  Gunnar  the  goodly  war-king  spake  forth  his  greeting  and  speed. 

And  deemed  him  noble  and  great,  and  a  fellow  for  kings  in  their  need : 

And  Hogni  gave  him  his  greeting,  and  none  his  eyes  might  dim, 

And  he  smiled  as  the  winter  sun  on  the  shipless  ocean's  rim. 

Then  greeted  him  Guttorm  the  young,  and  cried  out  that  his  heart  was  glao 

That  the  Volsung  lived  in  their  house,  that  a  King  of  the  Kings  they  had. 

Then  silent  awhile  the  Maiden,  the  fair-armed  Gudrun,  stood. 

Yet  might  all  men  see  by  her  visage  that  she  deemed  his  coming  good ; 

But  at  last  the  gold  she  taketh,  and  before  him  doth  she  stand, 

And  she  poureth  the  wine  of  King-folk,  and  stretcheth  forth  her  hand, 

And  she  saith  :  "  Hail  Sigurd  the  Volsung  !  may  I  see  thy  joy  increase, 

And  thy  shielded  sons  beside  thee,  and  thy  days  grown  old  in  peace ! " 

And  he  took  the  cup  from  her  hand,  and  drank,  while  his  heart  rejoiced 
At  the  Niblung  Maiden's  beauty,  and  her  blessing  lovely-voiced ; 
And  he  thanked  her  well  for  the  greeting,  and  no  guile  in  his  heart  was  grown, 
But  he  thought  of  his  love  enfolded  in  the  arms  of  his  renown. 

So  the  Niblungs  feast  glad-hearted  through  the  undark  night  and  kind, 

And  the  burden  of  all  sorrow  seems  fallen  far  behind 

On  the  road  their  lives  have  wended  ere  that  happiest  night  of  nights, 

And  the  careless  days  and  quiet  seem  but  thieves  of  their  delights ; 

For  their  hearts  go  forth  before  them  toward  the  better  days  to  come, 

When  all  the  world  of  glory  shall  be  called  the  Niblungs'  home  : 

Yea,  as  oft  in  the  merry  season  and  the  morning  of  the  May 

The  birds  break  out  a-singing  for  the  world's  face  waxen  gay, 

And  they  flutter  there  in  the  blossoms  and  run  through  the  dewy  grass, 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  177 

As  they  sing  the  joy  of  the  spring-tide,  that  bringeth  the  summer  to  pass  ; 

And  they  deem  that  for  them  alone  was  the  earth  wrought  long  ago, 

And  no  hate  and  no  repentance,  and  no  fear  to  come  they  know  ,' 

So  fared  the  feast  of  the  Niblungs  on  the  eve  that  Sigurd  came 

In  the  day  of  their  deeds  triumphant,  and  the  blossom  of  their  famei 

0/  Sigurd's  warfaring  in  the  company  of  the  Niblungs^  and  of  his  great 

fame  and  glory. 

Now  gone  is  the  summer  season  and  the  harvest  of  the  year, 
And  amid  the  winter  weather  the  deeds  of  the  Niblungs  wear ; 
But  nought  is  their  joyance  worsened,  or  their  mirth-tide  waxen  less, 
Though  the  swooping  mountain  tempest  howl  round  their  ridgy  ness. 
Though  a  house  of  the  windy  battle  their  streeted  burg  be  grown. 
Though  the  heaped-up,  huddled  cloud-drift  be  their  very  hall-roof's  crown, 
Though  the  rivers  bear  the  burden,  and  the  Rime-Gods  grip  and  strive, 
And  the  snow  in  the  mirky  midnoon  across  the  lealand  drive. 

But  lo,  in  the  stark  midwinter  how  the  war  is  smitten  awake. 
And  the  blue-clad  Niblung  warriors  the  spears  from  the  wall-nook  take, 
And  gird  the  dusky  hauberk,  and  the  ruddy  fur-coat  don, 
And  draw  the  yellowing  ermine  o'er  the  steel  from  Welshland  won. 
Then  they  show  their  tokened  war-shields  to  the  moon-dog  and  the  stars, 
For  the  hurrying  wind  of  the  mountains  has  borne  them  tale  of  wars. 
Lo  now,  in  the  court  of  the  warriors  they  gather  for  the  fray. 
Before  the  sun's  uprising,  in  the  moonless  morn  of  day  j 
And  the  spears  by  the  dusk  gate  glimmer,  and  the  torches  shine  on  the  wall, 
And  the  murmuring  voice  of  women  comes  faint  from  the  cloudy  hall : 
Then  the  grey  dawn  beats  on  the  mountains  mid  a  drift  of  frosty  snow. 
And  all  men  the  face  of  Sigurd  mid  the  swart-haired  Niblungs  know  j 
And  they  see  his  gold  gear  glittering  mid  the  red  fur  and  the  white, 
And  high  are  the  hearts  uplifted  by  the  hope  of  happy  fight ; 
12 


178  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  they  see  the  sheathed  Wrath  shimmer  mid  the  restless  Welsh-wrought 

swords, 
And  their  hearts  rejoice  beforehand  o'er  the  fall  of  conquered  lords  : 
And  they  see  the  Helm  of  Aweing  and  the  awful  eyes  beneath, 
And  they  deem  the  victory  glorious,  and  fair  the  warrior's  death. 

So  forth  through  that  cave  of  the  gate  from  the  Niblung  Burg  they  fare, 

And  they  turn  their  backs  on  the  plain,  and  the  mountain-slopes  they  dai  ^ 

And  the  place  of  the  slaked  earth-forges,  as  the  eastering  wind  shall  lead, 

And  but  few  swords  bide  behind  them  the  Niblung  Burg  to  heed. 

But  lo,  in  the  jaws  of  the  mountains  how  few  and  small  they  seem, 

As  dusky-strange  in  the  snow-drifts  their  knitted  hauberks  gleam : 

Lo,  now  at  the  mountains'  outmost  'neath  Sigurd's  gleaming  eyes 

How  wide  in  the  winter  season  the  citied  lealand  lies : 

Lo,  how  the  beacons  are  flaring,  and  the  bell-swayed  steeples  rock, 

And  the  gates  of  cities  are  shaken  with  the  back-swung  door-leav^es'  shock 

And,  lo,  the  terror  of  towns,  and  the  land  that  the  winter  wards, 

And  over  the  streets  snow-muffled  the  clash  of  the  Niblung  swords. 

But  the  slaves  of  the  Kings  are  gathered,  and  their  host  the  battle  abides, 
And  forth  in  the  front  of  the  Niblungs  the  golden  Sigurd  rides ; 
And  Gunnar  smites  on  his  right  hand,  and  Hogni  smites  on  the  left. 
And  glad  is  the  heart  of  Guttorm,  and  the  Southland  host  is  cleft 
As  the  grey  bill  reapeth  the  willows  in  the  autumn  of  the  year. 
When  the  fish  lie  still  in  the  eddies,  and  the  rain-flood  draweth  anear. 

Now  sheathed  is  the  Wrath  of  Sigurd ;  for  as  wax  withstands  the  flame, 

So  the  Kings  of  the  land  withstood  him  and  the  glory  of  his  fame. 

And  before  the  grass  is  growing,  or  the  kine  have  fared  from  the  stall, 

The  song  of  the  fair-speech-masters  goes  up  in  the  Niblung  hall, 

And  they  sing  of  the  golden  Sigurd  and  the  face  without  a  foe, 

And  the  lowly  man  exalted  and  the  mighty  brought  alow : 

And  they  say,  when  the  sun  of  summer  shall  come  aback  to  the  land, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  179 

It  shall  shine  on  the  fields  of  the  tiller  that  fears  no  heavy  hand ; 

That  the  sheaf  shall  be  for  the  plougher,  and  the  loaf  for  him  that  sowed. 

Through  every  furrowed  acre  where  the  Son  of  Sigmund  rode. 

Full  dear  was  Sigurd  the  Volsung  to  all  men  most  and  least, 

And  now,  as  the  spring  drew  onward,  'twas  deemed  a  goodly  feast 

For  the  acre-biders'  children  by  the  Niblung  Burg  to  wait, 

If  perchance  the  Son  of  Sigmund  should  ride  abroad  by  the  gate : 

For  whosoever  feared  him,  no  little-one,  forsooth, 

Would  shrink  from  the  shining  eyes  and  the  hand  that  clave  out  truth 

From  the  heart  of  the  wrack  and  the  battle:  it  was  then,  as  his  gold  gear  burned 

O'er  the  balks  of  the  bridge  and  the  river,  that  oft  the  mother  turned. 

And  spake  to  the  laughing  baby  :  "  O  little  son,  and  dear. 

When  I  from  the  world  am  departed,  and  whiles  a-nights  ye  hear 

The  best  of  man-folk  longing  for  the  least  of  Sigurd's  days. 

Thou  shalt  hearken  to  their  story,  till  they  tell  forth  all  his  praise. 

And  become  beloved  and  a  wonder,  as  thou  sayst  when  all  is  sung, 

*  And  I  too  once  beheld  him  in  the  days  when  I  was  young.' " 

Men  say  that  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  the  lovely  Giuki's  child. 

Looked  long  on  Sigurd's  visage  in  the  winter  weather  wild 

On  the  eve  of  the  Kings'  departure ;  and  she  bore  him  wine  and  spake  . 

"  Thou  goest  to  the  war,  O  Sigurd,  for  the  Niblung  brethren's  sake  ; 

And  so  women  send  their  kindred  on  many  a  doubtful  tide. 

And  dead  full  oft  on  the  death-field  shall  the  hope  of  their  lives  abide ; 

Nor  must  they  fear  beforehand,  nor  weep  when  all  is  o'er ; 

But  thou,  our  guest  and  our  stranger,  thou  goest  to  the  war, 

And  who  knows  but  thine  hand  may  carry  the  hope  of  all  the  earth : 

Now  therefore  if  thou  deemest  that  my  prayer  be  aught  of  worth. 

Nor  wilt  scorn  the  child  of  a  Niblung  that  prays  for  things  to  come. 

Pledge  me  for  thy  glad  returning,  and  the  sheaves  of  fame  borne  home  1 ' 

He  laughed,  for  his  heart  was  merry  for  the  seed  of  battle  sown. 


i8o  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

For  the  fruit  of  love's  fulfillment,  and  the  blossom  of  renown ; 
And  he  said :  "  I  look  in  the  wine-cup  and  I  see  goodwill  therein  ^ 
Be  merry,  Maid  of  the  Niblungs,  for  these  are  the  prayers  that  win  ! " 

He  drank,  and  the  soul  within  him  to  the  love  and  the  glory  turned, 
And  all  unmoved  was  her  visage,  howso  her  heart-strings  yearned. 

But  again  when  the  bolt  of  battle  on  the  sleeping  kings  had  been  hurled, 
And  the  gold-tipped  cloud  of  the  Niblungs  had  been  sped  on  the  winter  world. 
And  once  more  in  that  hall  of  the  stories  was  dight  triumphant  feast, 
And  in  joy  of  soul  past  telling  sat  all  men  most  and  least. 
There  stood  the  daughter  of  Giuki  by  the  king-folk's  happy  board, 
And  grave  and  stern  was  Gudrun  as  the  wine  of  kings  she  poured  : 
But  Sigurd  smiled  upon  her,  and  he  said : 

"O  maid,  rejoice 
For  thy  pledge's  fair  redeeming,  and  the  hope  of  thy  kindly  voice  ! 
Thou  hast  prayed  for  the  guest  and  the  stranger,  and,  lo,  from  the  battle 

and  wrack 
Is  the  hope  of  the  Niblungs  blossomed,  and  thy  brethren's  lives  come  back." 

She  turned  and  looked  upon  him,  and  the  flush  ran  over  her  face. 
And  died  out  as  the  summer  lightning,  that  scarce  endureth  a  space ; 
But  still  was  her  visage  troubled,  as  she  said :  "  Hast  thou  called  me  kind 
Because  I  feared  for  earth's  glory  when  point  and  edge  are  blind  ? 
But  now  is  the  night  as  the  day,  when  thou  bringest  my  brethren  home 
And  back  in  the  arms  of  thy  glory  the  Niblung  hope  has  come." 

But  his  eyes  looked  kind  upon  her,  and  the  trouble  passeth  away, 
And  there  in  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  is  dark  night  as  glorious  day. 

Now  spring  o'er  the  winter  prevaileth,  and  the  blossoms  brighten  the  field ; 
But  lo,  in  the  flowery  lealands  the  gleam  of  spear  and  shield. 
For  swift  to  the  tidings  of  warfare  speeds  on  the  Niblung  folk, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  i8i 

And  the  Kings  to  the  sea  are  riding,  and  the  battle-laden  oak. 

Now  the  isle-abiders  tremble,  and  the  dwellers  by  the  sea, 

And  the  nesses  flare  with  the  beacons,  and  the  shepherds  leave  the  lea, 

As  the  tale  of  the  golden  warrior  speeds  on  from  isle  to  isle. 

Now  spread  is  the  snare  of  treason,  and  cast  is  the  net  of  guile, 

And  the  mirk-wood  gleams  with  the  ambush,  and  venom  lurks  at  the  board ,' 

And  whiles  and  again  for  a  little  the  fair  fields  gleam  with  the  sword, 

And  the  host  of  the  isle-folk  gather,  nigh  numberless  of  tale : 

But  how  shall  its  bulk  and  its  writhing  the  willow-log  avail 

When  the  red  flame  lives  amidst  it  ?     Lo  now,  the  golden  man 

In  the  towns  from  of  old  time  famous,  by  the  temples  tall  and  wan  j 

How  he  wends  with  the  swart-haired  Niblungs  through  the  mazes  of  the 

streets. 
And  the  hosts  of  the  conquered  outlands  and  their  uncouth  praying  meets. 
There  he  wonders  at  their  life-days  and  their  fond  imaginings. 
As  he  bears  the  love  of  Brynhild  through  the  houses  of  the  kings. 
Where  his  word  shall  do  and  undo,  and  with  crowns  of  kings  shall  he  deal ; 
And  he  laughs  to  scorn  the  treasure  where  thieves  break  through  and  steal. 
And  the  moth  and  the  rust  are  corrupting :  and  he  thinks  the  time  is  long 
Till  the  dawning  of  love's  summer  from  the  cloudy  days  of  wrong. 

So  they  raise  and  abase  and  alter,  then  turn  about  and  ride, 

Mid  the  peace  of  the  sword  triumphant,  to  the  shell-strown  ocean's  side ; 

And  they  bear  their  glory  away  to  the  mouth  of  the  fishy  stream. 

And  again  in  the  Niblung's  lealand  doth  the  Welsh-wrought  war-gear  gleam^ 

And  they  come  to  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  mighty  gate  of  war, 

And  betwixt  the  gathered  maidens  through  its  dusky  depths  they  pour. 

And  with  war-helms  done  with  blossoms  round  the  Niblung  hall  they  sing 

In  the  windless  cloudless  even  and  the  ending  of  the  spring ; 

Yea,  they  sing  the  song  of  Sigurd  and  the  face  without  a  foe, 

And  they  sing  of  the  prison's  rending  and  the  tyrant  laid  alow. 

And  the  golden  thieves'  abasement,  and  the  stilling  of  the  churl, 

And  the  mocking  of  the  dastard  where  the  chasing  edges  whirl ; 


i82  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  they  sing  of  the  outland  maidens  that  thronged  round  Sigurd's  hand, 
And  sung  in  the  streets  of  the  foemen  of  the  war-delivered  land ; 
And  they  tell  how  the  ships  of  the  merchants  come  free  and  go  at  their  will 
And  how  wives  in  peace  and  safety  may  crop  the  vine-clad  hill ; 
How  the  maiden  sits  in  her  bower,  and  the  weaver  sings  at  his  loom, 
And  forget  the  kings  of  grasping  and  the  greedy  days  of  gloom ; 
For  by  sea  and  hill  and  township  hath  the  Son  of  Sigmund  been, 
And  looked  on  the  folk  unheeded,  and  the  lowly  people  seen. 

Then  into  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  go  the  battle-staying  earls, 

And  they  cast  the  spoil  in  the  midmost ;  the  webs  of  the  out-sea  pearls, 

And  the  gold-enwoven  purple  that  on  hated  kings  was  bright ; 

Fair  jewelled  swords  accursed  that  never  flashed  in  fight ; 

Crowns  of  old  kings  of  battle  that  dastards  dared  to  wear; 

Great  golden  shields  dishonoured,  and  the  traitors'  battle-gear ; 

Chains  of  the  evil  judges,  and  the  false  accusers'  rings, 

And  the  cloud-wrought  silken  raiment  of  the  cruel  whores  of  kings. 

And  they  cried :   "  O  King  of  the  people,  O  Giuki  old  of  years, 

Lo,  the  wealth  that  Sigurd  brings  thee  from  the  fashioners  of  tears ! 

Take  thou  the  gift,  O  Niblung,  that  the  Volsung  seed  hath  brought ! 

For  we  fought  on  the  guarded  fore-shore,  in  the  guileful  wood  we  fought ; 

And  we  fought  in  the  traitorous  city,  and  the  murder-halls  of  kings ; 

And  Sigurd  showed  us  the  treasure,  and  won  us  the  ruddy  rings        [snare, 

From  the  jaws  of  the  treason  and  death,  and  redeemed  our  lives  from  the 

That  the  uttermost  days  might  know  it,  and  the  day  of  the  Niblungs  be  fair : 

And  all  this  he  giveth  to  thee,  as  the  Gods  give  harvest  and  gain. 

And  sit  in  their  thrones  of  the  heaven,  of  the  praise  of  the  people  fain." 

Then  Sigurd  passed  through  the  hall,  and  fair  was  the  light  of  his  eyes, 
And  he  came  to  King  Giuki  the  ancient,  and  Grimhild  the  overwise, 
And  stooped  to  the  elder  of  days  and  kissed  the  war-wise  head ; 
And  they  loved  him  passing  sore  as  a  very  son  of  their  bed. 
But  he  stood  in  the  sight  of  the  people,  and  sweet  he  was  to  see, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  183 

And  no  foe  and  no  betrayer,  and  no  envier  now  hath  he : 

But  Gunnar  the  bright  in  the  battle  deems  him  his  earthly  friend, 

And  Hogni  is  fain  of  his  fellow,  howso  the  day's  work  end, 

And  Guttorm  the  young  is  joyous  of  the  help  and  gifts  he  hath ; 

And  all  these  would  shine  beside  him  in  the  glory  of  his  path ; 

There  is  none  to  hate  or  hinder,  or  mar  the  golden  day, 

And  the  light  of  love  flows  plenteous,  as  the  sun-beams  hide  the  way. 

Now  there  was  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  the  lovely  Giuki's  child. 
And  her  eyes  beheld  ^his  glory,  but  her  heart  was  unbeguiled. 
And  the  dear  hope  fainted  in  her :  I  am  frail  and  weak,  she  saith, 
And  he  so  great  and  glorious  with  the  eyes  that  look  on  death ! 
Yet  she  comes,  and  speaks  before  him  as  she  bears  the  golden  horn  : 
"  The  world  is  glad,  O  Sigurd,  that  ever  thou  wert  born. 
And  I  with  the  world  am  rejoicing :  drink  now  to  the  Niblung  bliss, 
That  I,  a  deedless  maiden,  may  thank  thee  well  for  this ! " 

So  he  drank  of  the  cup  at  her  bidding  and  laughed,  and  said,  "  Forsooth, 
Good-will  with  the  cup  is  blended,  and  the  very  heart  of  ruth : 
Yet  meseems  thy  words  are  merrier  than  thine  inmost  soul  this  eve ; 
Nay  cast  away  thy  sorrow,  lest  the  Kings  of  battle  grieve ! " 

She  smiled  and  departed  from  him,  and  there  in  the  cloudy  hall 
To  the  feast  of  their  glad  returning  the  Niblung  children  fall ; 
And  far  o'er  the  flowery  lealand  the  shepherds  of  the  plain 
Beht>ld  the  litten  windows,  and  know  that  Kings  are  fain. 

So  fares  the  tale  of  Sigurd  through  all  kingdoms  of  the  earth, 
And  the  tale  is  told  of  his  doings  by  the  utmost  ocean's  girth ; 
And  fair  feast  the  merchants  deem  it  to  warp  their  sea-beat  ships 
High  up  the  Niblung  River,  that  their  sons  may  hear  his  lips 
Shed  fair  words  o'er  their  ladings  and  the  opened  southland  bales ; 
Then  they  get  them  aback  to  their  countries,  and  tell  how  all  men's  tales 


i84  THE  STORY  OF  SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Are  nought,  and  vain  and  empty  in  setting  forth  his  grace, 

And  the  unmatched  words  of  his  wisdom,  and  the  glory  of  his  face. 

Came  the  wise  men  too  from  the  outlands,  and  the  lords  of  singers'  fame 

That  men  might  know  hereafter  the  deeds  that  knew  his  name ; 

And  all  these  to  their  lands  departed,  and  bore  aback  his  love. 

And  cherished  the  tree  of  his  glory,  and  lived  glad  in  the  joy  thereof. 

But  men  say  that  howsoever  all  other  folk  of  earth 

Loved  Sigmund's  son  rejoicing,  and  were  bettered  of  their  mirth, 

Yet  ever  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  the  dark-haired  Niblung  Maid, 

From  the  barren  heart  of  sorrow  her  love  upon  him  laid : 

He  rejoiceth,  and  she  droopeth;  he  speaks  and  hushed  is  she ; 

He  beholds  the  world's  days  coming,  nought  but  Sigurd  may  she  see ; 

He  is  wise  and  her  wisdom  falters ;  he  is  kind,  and  harsh  and  strange 

Comes  the  voice  from  her  bosom  laden,  and  her  woman's  mercies  change 

He  longs,  and  she  sees  his  longing,  and  her  heart  grows  cold  as  a  sword, 

And  her  heart  is  the  ravening  fire,  and  the  fretting  sorrows'  hoard. 

Ah,  shall  she  not  wander  away  to  the  wilds  and  the  wastes  of  the  deer. 
Or  down  to  the  measureless  sea-flood,  and  the  mountain  marish  drear  ? 
Nay,  still  shall  she  bide  and  behold  him  in  the  ancient  happy  place, 
And  speak  soft  as  the  other  women  with  wise  and  queenly  face. 
Woe  worth  the  while  for  her  sorrow,  and  her  hope  of  life  forlorn ! 
—  Woe  worth  the  while  for  her  loving,  and  the  day  when  she  was  born  ! 

Of  the  Cup  of  evil  drink  that  Grimhild  the  Wise-wife  gave  to  Sigurd, 

Now  again  in  the  latter  summer  do  those  Kings  of  the  Niblungs  ride 

To  chase  the  sons  of  the  plunder  that  curse  the  ocean-side : 

So  over  the  oaken  rollers  they  run  the  cutters  down 

Till  fair  in  the  first  of  the  deep  are  the  glittering  bows  up-thrown ; 

But,  shining  wet  and  steel-clad,  men  leap  from  the  surfy  shore. 

And  hang  their  shields  on  the  gunwale,  and  cast  abroad  the  oar ; 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  185 

Then  full  to  the  outer  ocean  swing  round  the  golden  beaks, 

And  Sigurd  sits  by  the  tiller  and  the  host  of  the  spoilers  seeks. 

But  lo,  by  the  rim  of  the  out-sea  where  the  masts  of  the  Vikings  sway, 

And  their  bows  plunge  down  to  the  sea-floor  as  they  ride  the  ridgy  way, 

And  show  the  slant  decks  covered  with  swords  from  stem  to  stern : 

Hark  now,  how  the  horns  of  battle  for  the  clash  of  warriors  yearn. 

And  the  mighty  song  of  mocking  goes  up  from  the  thousands  of  throats, 

As  down  the  wind  and  landward  the  raven-banner  floats : 

For  they  see  thin  streaks  and  shining  o'er  the  waters'  face  draw  nigh. 

And  about  each  streak  a  foam-wake  as  the  wet  oars  toss  on  high; 

And  they  shout ;  for  the  silent  Niblungs  round  those  great  sea-castles  throng, 

And  the  eager  men  unshielded  swarm  up  the  heights  of  wrong. 

Then  from  bulwark  unto  bulwark  the  Wrath's  flame  sings  and  leaps, 

And  the  unsteered  manless  dragons  drift  down  the  weltering  deeps. 

And  the  waves  toss  up  a  shield-foam,  and  hushed  are  the  clamorous  throats. 

And  dead  in  the  summer  even  the  raven-banner  floats. 

And  the  Niblung  song  goes  upward,  as  the  sea-burgs  long  accursed 

Are  swept  toward  the  field-folk's  houses,  and  the  shores  they  saddened  erst : 

Lo  there  on  the  poop  stands  Sigurd  mid  the  black-haired  Niblung  kings, 

And  his  heart  goes  forth  before  him  toward  the  day  of  better  things, 

And  the  burg  in  the  land  of  Lymdale,  and  the  hands  that  bide  him  there. 

But  now  with  the  spoil  of  the  spoilers  mid  the  Niblungs  doth  he  fare, 

When  the  Kings  have  dight  the  beacons  and  the  warders  of  the  coast. 

That  fire  may  call  to  fire  for  the  swift  redeeming  host. 

Then  they  fare  to  the  Burg  of  the  people,  and  leave  that  lealand  free 

That  a  maid  may  wend  untroubled  by  the  edges  of  the  sea; 

And  glad  in  the  autumn  season  they  sit  them  down  again 

By  the  shrines  of  the  Gods  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  hallowed  hearths  of  men* 

So  there  on  an  eve  is  Sigurd  in  the  ancient  Niblung  hall. 

Where  the  cloudy  hangings  waver  and  the  flickering  shadows  fall, 

And  he  sits  by  the  Kings  on  the  high-seat,  and  wise  of  men  he  seems, 


i86  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  of  many  a  hidden  marvel  past  thought  of  man  he  dreams  : 
On  the  Head  of  Hindfell  he  thinketh,  and  how  fair  the  woman  was, 
And  how  that  his  love  hath  blossomed,  and  the  fruit  shall  come  to  pass ; 
And  he  thinks  of  the  burg  in  Lymdale,  and  how  hand  met  hand  in  love, 
Nor  deems  him  aught  too  feeble  the  heart  of  the  world  to  move ; 
And  more  than  a  God  he  seemeth,  and  so  steadfast  and  so  great. 
That  the  sea  of  chance  wide-weltering  'neath  his  will  must  needs  abate. 

High  riseth  the  glee  of  the  people,  and  the  song  and  the  clank  of  the  cup 

Beat  back  from  pillar  to  pillar,  to  the  cloud-blue  roof  go  up ; 

And  men's  hearts  rejoice  in  the  battle,  and  the  hope  of  coming  days. 

Till  scarce  may  they  think  of  their  fathers,  and  the  kings  of  bygone  praise. 

But  Giuki  looketh  on  Sigurd  and  saith  from  heart  grown  fain : 

"  To  sit  by  the  silent  wise-one,  how  mighty  is  the  gain ! 

Yet  we  know  this  long  while,  Sigurd,  that  lovely  is  thy  speech ; 

Wilt  thou  tell  us  the  tales  of  the  ancient,  and  the  words  of  masters  teach  ? 

For  the  joy  of  our  hearts  is  stormy  with  mighty  battles  won. 

And  sweet  shall  be  their  lulling  with  thy  tale  of  deeds  agone." 

Then  they  brought  the  harp  to  Sigurd,  and  he  looked  on  the  ancient  man. 

As  his  hand  sank  into  the  strings,  and  a  ripple  over  them  ran. 

And  he  looked  forth  kind  o'er  the  people,  and  all  men  on  his  glory  gazed, 

And  hearkened,  hushed  and  happy,  as  the  King  his  voice  upraised ; 

There  he  sang  of  the  works  of  Odin,  and  the  halls  of  the  heavenly  coast 

And  the  sons  of  God  uprising,  and  the  Wolflings'  gathering  host ; 

And  he  told  of  the  birth  of  Rerir,  and  of  Volsung  yet  unborn 

All  the  deeds  of  his  father's  father,  and  his  battles  overworn  ; 

Then  he  told  of  Signy  and  Sigmund,  and  the  changing  of  their  lives ; 

Tales  of  great  kings'  departing,  and  their  kindred  and  their  wives. 

But  his  song  and  his  fond  desire  go  up  to  the  cloudy  roof, 

And  blend  with  the  eagles'  shrilling  in  the  windy  night  aloof. 

So  he  made  an  end  of  his  story,  and  he  sat  and  longed  full  sore 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  187 

That  the  days  of  all  his  longing  as  a  story  might  be  o'er  : 

But  the  wonder  of  the  people,  and  their  love  of  Sigurd  grew, 

And  green  grew  the  tree  of  the  Volsungs,  as  the  Branstock  blossomed  anew. 

Now  up  rose  Grimhild  the  wise-wife,  and  she  stood  by  Sigurd  and  said : 

"  There  is  none  of  the  kings  of  kingdoms  that  may  match  thy  goodlihead : 

Lo  now,  thou  hast  sung  of  thy  fathers ;  but  men  shall  sing  of  thee, 

And  therewith  shall  our  house  be  remembered,  and  great  shall  our  glory  be. 

I  beseech  thee  hearken  a  little  to  a  faithful  word  of  mine, 

When  thou  of  this  cup  hast  drunken ;  for  my  love  is  blent  with  the  wine.*' 

He  laughed  and  took  the  cup  :  But  therein  with  the  blood  of  the  earth 
Earth's  hidden  might  was  mingled,  and  deeds  of  the  cold  sea's  birth, 
And  things  that  the  high  Gods  turn  from,  and  a  tangle  of  strange  love, 
Deep  guile,  and  strong  compelling,  that  whoso  drank  thereof 
Should  remember  not  his  longing,  should  cast  his  love  away, 
Remembering  dead  desire  but  as  night  remembereth  day. 

So  Sigurd  looked  on  the  horn,  and  he  saw  how  fair  it  was  scored 

With  the  cunning  of  the  Dwarf -kind  and  the  masters  of  the  sword ; 

And  he  drank  and  smiled  on  Grimhild  above  the  beaker's  rim. 

And  she  looked  and  laughed  at  his  laughter;  and  the  soul  was  changed  in  him. 

Men  gazed  and  their  hearts  sank  in  them,  and  they  knew  not  why  it  was. 

Why  the  fair-lit  hall  was  darkling,  nor  what  had  come  to  pass : 

For  they  saw  the  sorrow  of  Sigurd,  who  had  seen  but  his  deeds  erewhile. 

And  the  face  of  the  mighty  darkened,  who  had  known  but  the  light  of  its  smile. 

But  Grimhild  looked  and  was  merry ;  and  she  deemed  her  life  was  great, 
And  her  hand  a  wonder  of  wonders  to  withstand  the  deeds  of  Fate  : 
For  she  saw  by  the  face  of  Sigurd  and  the  token  of  his  eyes 
That  her  will  had  abased  the  valiant,  and  filled  the  faithful  with  lies. 
And  blinded  the  God-born  seer,  and  turned  the  steadfast  athwart. 
And  smitten  the  pride  of  the  joyous,  and  the  hope  of  the  eager  heart; 


i88  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

The  hush  of  the  hall  she  hearkened,  and  the  fear  of  men  she  knew, 
But  all  this  was  a  token  unto  her,  and  great  pride  within  hei*  grew, 
As  she  saw  the  days  that  were  coming  from  the  well-spring  of  her  blood ; 
Goodly  and  glorious  and  great  by  the  kings  of  her  kindred  she  stood, 
And  faced  the  sorrow  of  Sigurd,  and  her  soul  of  that  hour  was  fain ; 
For  she  thought :  I  will  heal  the  smitten,  I  will  raise  up  the  smitten  and  slain, 
And  take  heed  where  the  Gods  were  heedless,  and  build  on  where  they  began, 
And  frame  hope  for  the  unborn  children  and  the  coming  days  of  man. 

Then  she  spake  aloud  to  the  Volsung :  "  Hear  this  faithful  word  of  mine ! 
For  the  draught  thou  hast  drunken,  O  Sigurd,  and  my  love  was  blent  with 
O  Sigurd,  son  of  the  mighty,  thy  kin  are  passed  away,  [the  wine : 

But  uplift  thine  heart  and  be  merry,  for  new  kin  hast  thou  gotten  today ; 
Thy  father  is  Giuki  the  King,  and  Grimhild  thy  mother  is  made. 
And  thy  brethren  are  Gunnar  and  Hogni  and  Guttorm  the  unafraid. 
Rejoice  for  a  kingly  kindred,  and  a  hope  undreamed  before ! 
For  the  folk  shall  be  wax  in  the  fire  that  withstandeth  the  Niblung  war; 
The  waste  shall  bloom  as  a  garden  in  the  Niblung  glory  and  trust, 
And  the  wrack  of  the  Niblung  people  shall  burn  the  world  to  dust: 
Our  peace  shall  still  the  world,  our  joy  shall  replenish  the  earth ; 
And  of  thee  it  cometh,  O  Sigurd,  the  gold  and  the  garland  of  worth  I " 

But  the  heart  was  changed  in  Sigurd ;  as  though  it  ne'er  had  been 

His  love  of  Brynhild  perished  as  he  gazed  on  the  Niblung  Queen : 

Brynhild's  beloved  body  was  e'en  as  a  wasted  hearth, 

No  more  for  bale  or  blessing,  for  plenty  or  for  dearth. 

—  O  ye  that  shall  look  hereafter,  when  the  day  of  Sigurd  is  done. 

And  the  last  of  his  deeds  is  accomplished,  and  his  eyes  are  shut  in  the  sun, 

When  ye  look  and  long  for  Sigurd,  and  the  image  of  Sigurd  behold, 

And  his  white  sword  still  as  the  moon,  and  his  strong  hand  heavy  and  cold. 

Then  perchance  shall  ye  think  of  this  even,  then  perchance  shall  ye  wonder 

and  cry, 
*  Twice  over,  King,  are  we  smitten,  and  twice  have  we  seen  thee  die.' 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  189 

As  folk  of  the  summer  feasters,  who  have  fallen  to  feast  in  the  morn, 
And  have  wreathed  their  brows  with  roses  ere  the  first  of  the  clouds  was  born; 
Beneath  the  boughs  were  they  sitting,  and  the  long  leaves  twinkled  about, 
And  the  wind  with  their  laughter  was  mingled  nor  held  aback  from  their  shout, 
Amidst  of  their  harp  it  lingered,  from  the  mouth  of  their  horn  went  up. 
Round  the  reek  of  their  roast  was  it  breathing,  o'er  the  flickering  face  of  their 
—  Lo  now,  why  sit  they  so  heavy,  and  why  is  their  joy-speech  dead,     [cup — 
Why  are  the  long  leaves  drooping,  and  the  fair  wind  hushed  o'erhead  ?  — 
Look  out  from  the  sunless  boughs  to  the  yellow-mirky  east, 
How  the  clouds  are  woven  together  o'er  that  afternoon  of  feast ; 
There  are  heavier  clouds  above  them,  and  the  sun  is  a  hidden  wonder, 
It  rains  in  the  nether  heaven,  and  the  world  is  afraid  with  the  thunder : 
E'en  so  in  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  holy  joyous  place, 
Sat  the  earls  on  the  marvel  gazing,  and  the  sorrow  of  Sigurd's  face. 

Men  say  that  a  little  after  the  evil  of  that  night 

All  waste  is  the  burg  of  Brynhild,  and  there  springeth  a  marvellous  light 

On  the  desert  hard  by  Lymdale,  and  few  men  know  for  why; 

But  there  are,  who  say  that  a  wildfire  thence  roareth  up  to  the  sky 

Round  a  glorious  golden  dwelling,  wherein  there  sitteth  a  Queen 

In  remembrance  of  the  wakening,  and  the  slumber  that  hath  been ; 

Wherein  a  Maid  there  sitteth,  who  knows  not  hope  nor  rest 

For  remembrance  of  the  Mighty,  and  the  Best  come  forth  from  the  Best. 

But  the  hushed  Kings  sat  in  the  feast-hall,  till  Grimhild  cried  on  the  harp, 
And  the  minstrels'  fingers  hastened,  and  the  sound  rang  clear  and  sharp 
Beneath  the  cloudy  roof-tree,  but  no  joyance  with  it  went, 
And  no  voice  but  the  eagles'  crying  with  the  stringed  song  was  blent ; 
And  as  it  began,  it  ended,  and  no  soul  had  been  moved  by  its  voice. 
To  lament  o'er  the  days  passed  over,  or  in  coming  days  to  rejoice. 
Late  groweth  the  night  o'er  the  people,  but  no  word  hath  Sigurd  said. 
Since  he  laughed  o'er  the  glittering  Dwarf -gold  and  raised  the  cup  to  his  head 
No  wrath  in  his  eyes  is  arisen,  no  hope,  nor  wonder,  nor  fear ; 


I90  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Yet  is  Sigurd's  face  as  boding  to  folk  that  behold  him  anear, 

As  the  mountain  that  broodeth  the  fire  o'er  the  town  of  man's  delights, 

As  the  sky  that  is  cursed  nor  thunders,  as  the  God  that  is  smitten  nor  smites 

So  silent  sitteth  the  Volsung  o'er  the  blindness  of  the  wrong, 

But  night  on  the  Niblungs  waxeth,  and  their  Kings  for  the  morrow  long. 

And  the  morrow  of  tomorrow  that  the  light  may  be  fair  to  their  eyes, 

And  their  days  as  the  days  of  the  joyous :  so  now  from  the  throne  they  arise. 

And  their  men  depart  from  the  feast-hall,  their  care  in  sleep  to  lay, 

But  none  durst  speak  with  Sigurd,  nor  ask  him,  whither  away, 

As  he  strideth  dumb  from  amidst  them ;  and  all  who  see  him  deem 

That  he  heedeth  the  folk  of  the  Niblungs  but  as  people  of  a  dream. 

So  they  fall  away  from  about  him,  till  he  stands  in  the  forecourt  alone ; 

Then  he  fares  to  the  kingly  stables,  nor  knoweth  he  his  own, 

Nor  backeth  the  cloudy  Greyfell,  but  a  steed  of  the  Kings  he  bestrides 

And  forth  through  the  gate  of  the  Niblungs  and  into  the  night  he  rides : 

— Yea  he  with  no  deed  before  him,  and  he  in  the  raiment  of  peace ; 

And  the  moon  in  the  mid-sky  wadeth,  and  is  come  to  her  most  increase. 

In  the  deedless  dark  he  rideth,  and  all  things  he  remembers  save  one. 

And  nought  else  hath  he  care  to  remember  of  all  the  deeds  he  hath  done : 

He  hasteneth  not  nor  stayeth ;  he  lets  the  dark  die  out 

Ere  he  comes  to  the  burg  of  Brynhild  and  rides  it  round  about ; 

And  he  lets  the  sun  rise  upward  ere  he  rideth  thence  away. 

And  wendeth  he  knoweth  not  whither,  and  he  weareth  down  the  day; 

Till  lo,  a  plain  and  a  river,  and  a  ridge  at  the  mountains'  feet 

With  a  burg  of  people  builded  for  the  lords  of  God-home  meet. 

O'er  the  bridge  of  the  river  he  rideth,  and  unto  the  burg-gate  come*? 

In  no  lesser  wise  up-builded  than  the  gate  of  the  heavenly  homes  • 

Himseems  that  the  gate-wards  know  him,  for  they  cry  out  each  to  each, 

And  as  whispering  winds  in  the  mountains  he  hears  their  far-off  speech. 

So  he  comes  to  the  gate's  huge  hollow,  and  amidst  its  twilight  goes. 

And  his  horse  is  giad  and  remembers,  and  that  road  of  King-folk  knowa 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  19s 

And  the  winds  are  astir  in  its  arches  with  the  sound  of  swords  unseen, 
And  the  cries  of  kings  departed,  and  the  battles  that  have  been. 

So  into  a  garth  of  warriors  from  that  dusk  he  rideth  out 

And  no  man  stayetli  nor  hindereth ;  there  he  gazeth  round  about, 

And  seeth  a  glorious  dwelling,  a  mighty  far-famed  place. 

As  thelast  of  the  evening  sunlight  shines  fair  on  his  weary  face : 

And  there  is  a  hall  before  him,  and  huge  in  the  even  it  lies, 

A  mountain  grey  and  awful  with  the  Dwarf-folk's  masteries : 

And  the  houses  of  men  cling  round  it,  and  low  they  seem  and  frail. 

Though  the  wise  and  the  deft  have  built  them  for  a  long-enduring  tale : 

There  the  wind  sings  loud  in  the  wall-nook  and  the  spears  are  sparks  on  the 

And  the  swords  are  flaming  torches  as  the  sun  is  hard  on  his  fall :       [wall, 

He  falls,  and  the  even  dusketh  o'er  that  sword-renowned  close. 

But  Sigurd  bideth  and  broodeth  for  the  Niblung  house  he  knows, 

And  he  hath  a  thought  within  him  that  he  rideth  forth  from  shame, 

And  that  men  have  forgotten  the  greeting  and  are  slow  to  remember  his  fame. 

But  forth  from  the  hall  came  a  shouting,  and  the  voice  of  many  men, 
And  he  deemed  they  cried  "  Hail  Sigurd !  thou  art  welcome  home  again ! " 
Then  he  looked  to  the  door  of  the  feast-hall  and  behold  it  seemed  to  him 
That  its  wealth  of  graven  stories  with  more  that  the  dusk  was  dim ; 
With  the  waving  of  white  raiment  and  the  doubtful  gleam  of  gold. 
Then  there  groweth  a  lorging  within  him,  nor  his  heart  will  he  withhold ; 
But  he  rideth  straight  to  the  doorway,  and  the  stories  of  the  door : 
And  there  sitteth  Giuki  the  ancient,  the  King,  the  wise  of  war. 
And  Grimhild  the  kin  of  the  God-folk,  the  wife  of  the  glittering  eyes ; 
And  there  is  the  goodly  Gunnar,  and  Hogni  the  overwise,  [shade, 

And  Guttorm  the  young  and  the  war-fain  j  and  there  in  the  door  and  the 
With  eyes  to  the  earth  cast  downward,  is  the  white-armed  Niblung  Maid. 
But  all  these  give  Sigurd  greeting,  and  hail  him  fair  and  well ; 
And  King  Giuki  saith  : 

"  Hail,  Sigurd  !  what  tidings  wilt  thou  tell 


192  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Of  thy  deeds  since  yestereven  ?  or  whitherward  wentst  thou  ? " 

Then  unto  the  earth  leapt  the  Volsung,  and  gazed  with  doubtful  brow 
On  the  King  and  the  Queen  and  the  Brethren,  and  the  white-armed  Giuki's 
Yet  amidst  all  these  in  a  measure  of  his  heavy  heart  was  beguiled  :     [Child, 
He  spread  out  his  hands  before  them,  and  he  spake : 

"  O,  what  be  ye, 
Who  ask  of  the  deeds  of  Sigurd,  and  seek  of  the  days  to  be  ? 
Are  ye  aught  but  the  Niblung  children  ?  for  meseems  I  would  ask  for  a  gift, 
But  the  thought  of  my  heart  is  unstable,  and  my  hope  as  the  winter-drift ; 
And  the  words  may  not  be  shapen. —  But  speak  ye,  men  of  the  earth. 
Have  ye  any  new-found  tidings,  or  are  deeds  come  nigh  to  the  birth? 
Are  there  knots  for  my  sword  to  sunder  ?  are  there  thrones  for  my  hand  to 

shake  ? 
And  to  which  of  the  Gods  shall  I  give,  and  from  which  of  the  Kings  shall  I 

take? 
Or  in  which  of  the  houses  of  man-folk  henceforward  shall  I  dwell  ? 
O  speak,  ye  Niblung  children,  and  the  tale  to  Sigurd  tell ! " 

None  answered  a  word  for  a  space ;  but  Gudrun  wept  in  the  door. 

And  the  noise  of  men  came  outward  and  of  feet  that  went  on  the  floor. 

Then  Grimhild  stood  before  him,  and  took  him  by  the  hand, 

And  she  said :  "  In  the  hall  are  gathered  the  earls  of  the  Niblung  land. 

Come  thou  with  the  Mother  of  Kings  and  sit  in  thy  place  tonight. 

That  the  cheer  of  the  earls  may  be  bettered,  nor  the  war-dukes  lose  delight." 

"  Come,  brother  and  king,"  said  Gunnar,  "  for  here  of  all  the  earth 
Is  the  place  that  may  not  lack  thee,  and  the  folk  that  loves  thy  worth." 

"Come,  Sigurd  the  wise,"  said  Hogni,  "and  so  shall  thy  visage  cheer 
The  folk  that  is  bold  for  tomorrow,  and  the  hearts  that  know  no  fear." 

"Come,  Sigurd  the  keen,"  said  Guttorm,   "for  thy  sword  lies  light  in  the 
And  oft  shall  we  ride  together  to  face  the  fateful  death."  [sheath, 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  193 

No  word  at  all  spake  Gudrun,  as  she  stood  in  the  doorway  dim, 
But  turned  her  face  from  beholding  as  she  reached  her  hand  to  him. 

Then  Sigurd  nought  gainsaid  them,  but  into  the  hall  he  passed, 

And  great  shouts  of  salutation  to  the  cloudy  roof  were  cast. 

And  rang  back  from  the  glassy  pillars,  and  the  woven  God-folk  stirred. 

And  afar  the  clustering  eagles  on  the  golden  roof-ridge  heard, 

And  cried  out  on  the  Sword  of  the  Branstock  as  they  cried  in  other  days ; 

And  the  harps  rang  out  in  the  hall,  and  men  sang  in  Sigurd's  praise. 

But  he  looked  to  the  right  and  the  left,  and  he  knew  there  was  ruin  and  lack, 
And  the  death  of  yestereven,  and  the  days  that  should  never  come  back ; 
And  he  strove,  but  nought  he  remembered  of  the  matters  that  he  would, 
Save  that  great  was  the  flood  of  sorrow  that  had  drowned  his  days  of  good : 
Then  he  deemed  that  the  sons  of  the  earl-folk,  e'en  mid  their  praising  word, 
Were  looking  on  his  trouble  as  a  people  sore  afeard  j 
And  the  gifts  that  the  Gods  had  given  the  pride  in  his  soul  awoke, 
And  kindled  was  Sigurd's  kindness  by  the  trouble  of  the  folk  j 
And  he  thought :  I  shall  do  and  undo,  as  while  agone  I  did. 
And  abide  the  time  of  the  dawning,  when  the  night  shall  be  no  more  hid  I 
Then  he  lifted  his  head  like  a  king,  and  his  brow  as  a  God's  was  clear, 
And  the  trouble  fell  from  the  people,  and  they  cast  aside  their  fear ; 
And  scarce  was  his  glory  abated  as  he  sat  in  the  seat  of  the  Kings 
With  the  Niblung  brethren  about  him,  and  they  spake  of  famous  things. 
And  the  dealings  of  lords  of  the  earth  ;  but  he  spake  and  answered  again 
And  thrust  by  the  grief  of  forgetting,  and  his  tangled  thought  and  vain. 
And  cast  his  care  on  the  morrow,  that  the  people  might  be  glad. 
Yet  no  smile  there  came  to  Sigurd,  and  his  lips  no  laughter  had ; 
But  he  seemeth  a  king  o'er-mighty,  who  hath  won  the  earthly  crown, 
In  whose  hand  the  world  is  lying,  who  no  more  heedeth  renown. 

But  now  speaketh  Grimhild  the  Queen  :  "  Rise,  daughter  of  my  folk, 
For  thou  seest  my  son  is  weary  with  the  weight  of  the  careful  yoke ; 
13 


194  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Go,  bear  him  the  wine  of  the  Kings,  and  hail  him  over  the  gold, 
And  bless  the  King  for  his  coming  to  the  heart  of  the  Niblung  fold." 

Upriseth  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  and  taketh  the  cup  in  her  hand  j 
Dead-pale  in  the  night  of  her  tresses  by  Sigurd  doth  she  stand, 
And  strives  with  the  thought  within  her,  and  finds  no  word  to  speak : 
For  such  is  the  strength  of  her  anguish,  as  well  might  slay  the  weak  j 
But  her  heart  is  a  heart  of  the  Queen-folk  and  of  them  that  bear  earth's  kings, 
And  her  love  of  her  lord  seems  lovely,  though  sore  the  torment  wrings. 
—  How  fares  it  with  words  unspoken,  when  men  are  great  enow. 
And  forth  from  the  good  to  the  good  the  strong  desires  shall  flow  ? 
Are  they  wasted  e'en  as  the  winds,  the  barren  maids  of  the  sky, 
Of  whose  birth  there  is  no  man  wotteth,  nor  whitherward  they  fly  ? 

Lo,  Sigurd  lifteth  his  eyes,  and  he  sees  her  silent  and  pale, 

But  fair  as  Odin's  Choosers  in  the  slain  kings'  wakening  dale, 

But  sweet  as  the  mid-fell's  dawning  ere  the  grass  beginneth  to  move  j 

And  he  knows  in  an  instant  of  time  that  she  stands  'twixt  death  and  love, 

And  that  no  man,  none  of  the  Gods  can  help  her,  none  of  the  days, 

If  he  turn  his  face  from  her  sorrow,  and  wend  on  his  lonely  ways. 

But  she  sees  the  change  in  his  eyen,  and  her  queenly  grief  is  stirred. 

And  the  shame  in  her  bosom  riseth  at  the  long  unspoken  word. 

And  again  with  the  speech  she  striveth  :  but  swift  is  the  thought  in  his  heart 

To  slay  her  trouble  for  ever,  and  thrust  her  shame  apart. 

And  he  saith : 

"  O  Maid  of  the  Niblungs,  thou  art  weary-faced  this  eve : 
Nay,  put  thy  trouble  from  thee,  lest  the  shielded  warriors  grieve ! 
Or  tell  me  what  hath  been  done,  or  what  deed  have  men  forborne, 
That  here  mid  the  warriors'  joyance  thy  life-joy  lieth  forlorn  ? 
For  so  may  the  high  Gods  help  me,  as  nought  so  much  I  would. 
As  that  round  thine  head  this  even  might  flit  unmingled  good  ! " 

He  seeth  the  love  in  her  eyen,  and  the  life  that  is  tangled  in  his, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  195 

And  the  heart  cries  out  within  him,  and  man's  hope  of  earthly  bliss ; 
And  again  would  he  spare  her  the  speech,  as  she  strives  with  her  longing  sore. 

"  Here  are  glad  men  about  us,  and  a  joyous  folk  of  war  [heart ; 

And  they  that  have  loved  thee  for  long,  and  they  that  have  cherished  mine 
But  we  twain  alone  are  woeful,  as  sad  folk  sitting  apart. 
Ah,  if  I  thy  soul  might  gladden !  if  thy  lips  might  give  me  peace  ! 
Then  belike  were  we  gladdest  of  all ;  for  I  love  thee  more  than  these. 
The  cup  of  goodwill  that  thou  bearest,  and  the  greeting  thou  wouldst  say, 
Turn  these  to  the  cup  of  thy  love,  and  the  words  of  the  troth-plighting  day ; 
The  love  that  endureth  for  ever,  and  the  never-dying  troth, 
To  face  the  Norns'  undoing,  and  the  Gods  amid  their  wrath." 

Then  he  taketh  the  cup  and  her  hands,  and  she  boweth  meekly  adown. 

Till  she  feels  the  arms  of  Sigurd  round  her  trembling  body  thrown : 

A  little  while  she  doubteth  in  the  mighty  slayer's  arms 

As  Sigurd's  love  unhoped-for  her  barren  bosom  warms ; 

A  little  while  she  struggleth  with  the  fear  of  his  mighty  fame. 

That  grows  with  her  hope's  fulfillment ;  ruth  rises  with  wonder  and  shame  , 

For  the  kindness  grows  in  her  soul,  as  forgotten  anguish  dies. 

And  her  heart  feels  Sigurd's  sorrow  in  the  breast  whereon  she  lies ; 

Then  the  fierce  love  overwhelms  her,  and  as  wax  in  the  fervent  fire 

All  dies  and  is  forgotten  in  the  sweetness  of  desire ; 

And  close  she  clingeth  to  Sigurd,  as  one  that  hath  gotten  the  best 

And  fair  things  of  the  world  she  deemeth,  as  a  place  of  infinite  rest. 


0/  the  Wedding  of  Sigurd  the  Volsung. 

That  night  sleeps  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  and  awakes  on  the  morrow-morn, 
And  wots  al  the  first  but  dimly  what  thing  in  his  life  hath  been  born : 
But  the  sun  cometh  up  in  the  autumn,  and  the  eve  he  remembereth, 
And  the  word  he  hath  given  to  Gudrun  to  love  her  to  the  death ; 


196  THE   STORY    OF    SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

A.nd  he  longs  for  the  Niblung  maiden,  that  her  love  may  cherish  his  heart, 

Lest  e'en  as  a  Godhead  banished  he  dwell  in  the  world  apart : 

The  new  sun  smiteth  his  body  as  he  leaps  from  the  golden  bed, 

And  doeth  on  his  raiment  and  is  fair  apparelled  j 

Then  he  goes  his  ways  through  the  chambers,  and  greeteth  none  at  all 

Till  he  comes  to  the  garth  and  the  garden  in  the  nook  of  the  Niblung  wall 

Now  therein,  mid  the  yellowing  leafage,  and  the  golden  blossoms  spent, 

Alone  and  lovely  and  eager  the  white-armed  Gudrun  went ; 

Swift  then  he  hasteneth  toward  her,  and  she  bideth  his  drawing  near, 

And  now  in  the  morn  she  trembleth ;  for  her  love  is  blent  with  fear ; 

And  wonder  is  all  around  her,  for  she  deemed  till  yestereve, 

When  she  saw  the  earls  astonied,  and  the  golden  Sigurd  grieve, 

That  on  some  most  mighty  woman  his  joyful  love  was  set ; 

And  love  hath  made  her  humble,  and  her  race  doth  she  forget. 

And  her  noble  and  mighty  heart  from  the  best  of  the  Niblungs  sprung, 

The  sons  of  the  earthly  War-Gods  of  the  days  when  the  world  was  young. 

Yea  she  feareth  her  love  and  his  fame,  but  she  feareth  his  sorrow  most, 

Lest  he  spake  from  a  heart  o'erladen  and  counted  not  the  cost. 

But  lo,  the  love  of  his  eyen,  and  the  kindness  of  his  face ! 

And  joy  her  body  burdens,  and  she  trembleth  in  her  place, 

And  sinks  in  the  arms  that  cherish  with  a  faint  and  eager  cry, 

And  again  on  the  bosom  of  Sigurd  doth  the  head  of  Gudrun  lie. 

Fairer  than  yestereven  doth  Sigurd  deem  his  love. 

And  more  her  tender  wooing  and  her  shame  his  soul  doth  move ; 

And  his  words  of  peace  and  comfort  come  easier  forth  from  him, 

And  woman's  love  seems  wondrous  amidst  his  trouble  dim  ; 

Strange,  sweet,  to  cling  together !  as  oft  and  o'er  again 

They  crave  and  kiss  rejoicing,  and  their  hearts  are  full  and  fain. 

Then  a  little  while  they  sunder,  and  apart  and  anigh  they  stand 
A.nd  Sigurd's  eyes  grow  awful  as  he  stretcheth  forth  his  hand, 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  197 

And  his  clear  voice  saith : 

"  O  Gudrun,  now  hearken  while  I  swear 
That  the  sun  shall  die  for  ever  and  the  day  no  more  be  fair, 
Ere  I  forget  thy  pity  and  thine  inmost  heart  of  love ! 
Yea,  though  the  Kings  be  mighty,  and  the  Gods  be  great  above, 
I  will  wade  the  flood  and  the  fire,  and  the  waste  of  war  forlorn 
To  look  on  the  Niblung  dwelling,  and  the  house  where  thou  wert  born," 

Strange  seemed  the  words  to  Sigurd  that  his  gathering  love  compelled, 
And  sweet  and  strange  desire  o'er  his  tangled  trouble  welled. 

But  bright  flashed  the  eyes  of  Gudrun,  and  she  said  :  '*  King,  as  for  me, 
If  thou  sawest  the  heart  in  my  bosom,  what  oath  might  better  thee  ? 
Yet  my  words  thy  words  shall  cherish,  as  thy  lips  my  lips  have  done. 
—  Herewith  I  swear,  O  Sigurd,  that  the  earth  shall  hate  the  sun. 
And  the  year  desire  but  darkness,  and  the  blossoms  shrink  from  day, 
Ere  my  love  shall  fail,  belovbd,  or  my  longing  pass  away !  " 

Now  they  go  from  the  garth  and  the  garden,  and  hand  in  hand  they  come 

To  the  hall  of  the  kings  of  aforetime,  and  the  heart  of  the  Niblung  home 

There  they  go  'neath  the  cloudy  roof-tree,  and  on  to  the  high-seat  fair. 

And  there  sitteth  Giuki  the  ancient,  and  the  guileful  Grimhild  is  there. 

With  the  swart-haired  Niblung  brethren ;  and  all  these  are  exceeding  fain. 

When  they  look  on  Sigurd  and  Gudrun,  and  the  peace  that  enwrappeth  the 

For  in  her  is  all  woe  forgotten,  sick  longing  little  seen,  [twaia 

And  the  shame  that  slayeth  pity,  and  the  self-scorn  of  a  Queen  j 

And  all  doubt  in  love  is  swallowed,  and  lovelier  now  is  she 

Than  a  picture  deftly  painted  by  the  craftsmen  over  sea ; 

And  her  face  is  a  rose  of  the  morning  by  the  night-tide  framed  about. 

And  the  long-stored  love  of  her  bosom  from  her  eyes  is  leaping  out. 

But  how  fair  is  Sigurd  the  King  that  beside  her  beauty  goes ! 

How  lovely  is  he  shapen,  how  great  his  stature  shows ! 

How  kind  is  the  clasping  right-hand,  that  hath  smitten  the  battle  acold  I 


198  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

How  kind  are  the  awful  eyen  that  no  foeman  durst  behold ! 
How  sweet  are  the  lips  unsmiling,  and  the  brow  as  the  open  day ! 
What  man  can  behold  and  believe  it,  that  his  life  shall  pass  away  ? 

So  he  stand eth  proud  by  the  high-seat,  and  the  sun  through  the  vast  hall  pours, 
And  the  Gods  on  the  hangings  waver  as  the  wind  goes  by  the  doors, 
And  abroad  are  the  sounds  of  man-folk,  and  the  eagles  cry  from  the  roof, 
And  the  ancient  deeds  of  Sigmund  seem  fallen  far  aloof ; 
And  dead  are  the  fierce  days  fallen,  and  the  world  is  soft  and  sweet, 
As  the  Son  of  the  Volsungs  speaketh  in  noble  words  and  meet : 

"  O  hearken,  king  of  the  Niblungs,  O  ancient  of  the  days ! 

Time  was,  when  alone  I  wandered,  and  went  on  the  wasteland  ways, 

And  sore  my  soul  desired  the  harvest  of  the  sword : 

Then  I  slew  the  great  Gold-wallower,  and  won  the  ancient  Hoard, 

And  I  turned  to  the  dwellings  of  men ;  for  I  longed  for  measureless  fame, 

And  to  do  and  undo  with  the  Kings,  and  the  pride  of  the  Kings  to  tame  ; 

And  I  longed  for  the  love  of  the  King-folk ;  but  who  desired  my  soul, 

Who  stayed  my  feet  in  his  dwelling,  who  showed  the  weary  the  goal, 

Who  drew  me  forth  from  the  wastes,  and  the  bitter  kinless  dearth. 

Till  I  came  to  the  house  of  Giuki  and  the  hallowed  Niblung  hearth  ? 

Count  up  the  deeds  and  forbearings,  count  up  the  words  of  the  days 

That  show  forth  the  love  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  ancient  people's  praise 

Nay,  number  the  waves  of  the  sea,  and  the  grains  of  the  yellow  sand. 

And  the  drops  of  the  rain  in  the  April,  and  the  blades  of  the  grassy  land ! 

And  what  if  one  heart  of  the  Niblungs  had  stored  and  treasured  it  all. 

And  hushed,  and  moved  but  softly  lest  one  grain  thereof  should  fall  ? 

If  she  feared  the  barren  garden,  and  the  sunless  fallow  field  ? 

How  then  should  the  spring-tide  labour,  and  the  summer  toil  to  yield ! 

And  so  may  the  high  Gods  help  me,  as  I  from  this  day  forth 

Shall  toil  for  her  exalting  to  the  height  of  worldly  worth. 

If  thou  stretch  thine  hands  forth,  Giuki,  and  hail  me  for  thy  son : 

Then  there  as  thou  sittst  in  thy  grave-mound  when  thine  earthly  day  is  done, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  199 

Thou  shalt  hear  of  our  children's  children,  and  the  crownM  kin  of  kings, 

And  the  peace  of  the  Niblung  people  in  the  day  of  better  things ; 

And  then  mayst  thou  be  merry  of  the  eve  when  Sigurd  came 

In  the  day  of  the  deeds  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  blossom  of  their  fame. 

Stietch  forth  thine  hands  to  thy  son :  for  I  bid  thy  daughter  to  wife. 

And  her  life  shall  withhold  my  death-day,  and  her  death  shall  stay  my  life; 

Then  spoke  the  ancient  Giuki :  "  Hail  Sigurd,  son  of  mine  eld  ! 

And  I  bless  the  Gods  for  the  day  that  mine  ancient  eyes  have  beheld  : 

Now  let  me  depart  in  peace,  since  I  know  for  very  sooth 

That  waxen  e'en  as  the  God-folk  shall  the  Niblungs  blossom  in  youth. 

Come,  take  thy  mother's  greeting,  and  let  thy  brethren  say 

How  well  they  love  thee,  Sigurd,  and  how  fair  they  deem  the  day." 

Then  lowly  bendeth  Sigurd  'neath  the  guileful  Grimhild's  hand. 

And  he  kisseth  the  Kings  of  the  Niblungs,  and  about  him  there  they  stand, 

The  war-fain,  darkling  kindred ;  and  all  their  words  are  praise, 

And  the  love  of  the  tide  triumphant,  and  the  hope  of  the  latter  days. 

Hark  now,  on  the  morrow  morning  how  the  blast  of  the  mighty  horn 
From  the  builded  Burg  of  the  Niblungs  goes  over  the  acres  shorn, 
And  the  roads  are  gay  with  the  riders,  and  the  bull  in  the  stall  is  left. 
And  the  plough  is  alone  in  the  furrow,  and  the  wedge  in  the  bole  half-cleft  j 
And  late  shall  the  ewes  be  folded,  and  the  kine  come  home  to  the  pail. 
And  late  shall  the  fires  be  litten  in  the  outmost  treeless  dale : 
For  men  fare  to  the  gate  of  Giuki  and  the  ancient  cloudy  hall, 
And  therein  are  the  earls  assembled  and  the  kings  wear  purple  and  pall, 
And  the  flowers  are  spread  beneath  them,  and  the  bench-cloths  beaten  with 
And  the  walls  are  strange  and  wondrous  with  the  noble  stories  told  :  [gold  ; 
For  new-hung  is  the  ancient  dwelling  with  the  golden  spoils  of  the  south, 
And  men  seem  merry  for  ever,  and  the  praise  is  in  each  man's  mouth. 
And  the  name  of  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  the  King  and  the  Serpent's  Bane, 
Who  exalteth  the  high  this  morning  and  blesseth  the  masters  of  gain ; 


200  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

For  men  drink  the  bridal  of  Sigurd  and  the  white-armed  Niblung  maid. 
And  the  best  with  the  best  shall  be  mingled,  and  the  gold  with  the  gold 

[o'erlaid. 
So,  fair  in  the  hall  is  the  feasting  and  men's  hearts  are  uplifted  on  high, 
And  they  deem  that  the  best  of  their  life-days  are  surely  drawing  anigh, 
As  now,  one  after  other,  uprise  the  scalds  renowned. 
And  their  well-belovbd  voices  awake  the  hoped-for  sound. 
In  the  midmost  of  the  high-tide,  and  the  joy  of  feasting  lords. 
Then  cometh  a  hush  and  a  waiting,  and  the  light  of  many  swords 
Flows  into  the  hall  of  Giuki  by  the  doorway  of  the  King, 
And  amid  those  flames  of  battle  the  war-clad  warriors  bring 
The  Cup  of  daring  Promise  and  the  hallowed  Boar  of  Son, 
And  men's  hearts  grow  big  with  longing  and  great  is  the  hope-tide  grown ; 
For  bright  the  Son  of  Sigmund  ariseth  by  the  board, 
And  unwinds  the  knitted  peace-strings  that  hamper  Regin's  Sword : 
Then  fierce  is  the  light  on  the  high-seat  as  men  set  down  the  Cup 
Anigh  the  hand  of  Sigurd,  and  the  edges  blue  rise  up. 
And  fall  on  the  hallowed  Wood-beast :  as  a  trump  of  the  woeful  war 
Rings  the  voice  of  the  mighty  Volsung  as  he  speaks  the  words  of  yore : 

•*  By  the  Earth  that  groweth  and  giveth,  and  by  all  the  Earth's  increase 

That  is  spent  for  Gods  and  man-folk ;  by  the  sun  that  shines  on  these ; 

By  the  Salt-Sea  Flood  that  beareth  the  life  and  death  of  men ; 

By  the  Heavens  and  Stars  that  change  not,  though  earth  die  out  again ; 

By  the  wild  things  of  the  mountain,  and  the  houseless  waste  and  lone ; 

By  the  prey  of  the  Goths  in  the  thicket  and  the  holy  Beast  of  Son, 

I  hallow  me  to  Odin  for  a  leader  of  his  host. 

To  do  the  deeds  of  the  Highest,  and  never  count  the  cost : 

And  I  swear,  that  whatso  great-one  shall  show  the  day  and  the  deed, 

I  shall  ask  not  why  nor  wherefore,  but  the  sword's  desire  shall  speed : 

And  I  swear  to  seek  no  quarrel,  nor  to  swerve  aside  for  aught,       [nought: 

Though  the  right  and  the  left  be  blooming,  and  the  straight  way  wend  tc 

And  I  swear  to  abide  and  hearken  the  prayer  of  any  thrall, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  201 

Though  the  war-torch  be  on  the  threshold  and  the  foemen's  feet  in  the  hall ; 

And  I  swear  to  sit  on  my  throne  in  the  guise  of  the  kings  of  the  earth, 

Though  the  anguish  past  amending,  and  the  unheard  woe  have  birth : 

And  I  swear  to  wend  in  my  sorrow  that  none  shall  curse  mine  eyes 

For  the  scowl  that  quelleth  beseeching,  and  the  hate  that  scorneth  the  wise. 

So  help  me  Earth  and  Heavens,  and  the  Under-sky  and  Seas, 

^Lud  the  Stars  in  their  ordered  houses,  and  the  Norns  that  order  these ! " 

And  he  drank  of  the  Cup  of  the  Promise,  and  fair  as  a  star  he  shone. 
And  all  men  rejoiced  and  wondered,  and  deemed  Earth's  glory  won. 

Then  came  the  girded  maidens,  and  the  slim  earls'  daughters  poured. 

And  uprose  the  dark-haired  Gunnar  and  bare  was  the  Niblung  sword ; 

Blue  it  gleamed  in  the  hand  of  the  folk-king  as  he  laid  it  low  on  the  Beast, 

And  took  oath  as  the  Goths  of  aforetime  in  the  hush  of  the  people's  feast : 

''  I  will  work  for  the  craving  of  Kings,  and  accomplish  the  will  of  the  great, 

Nor  ask  what  God  withstandeth,  nor  hearken  the  tales  of  fate ; 

When  a  King  my  life  hath  exalted,  and  wrought  for  my  hope  and  my  gain, 

For  every  deed  he  hath  done  me,  thereto  shall  I  fashion  twain. 

I  shall  bear  forth  the  fame  of  the  Niblungs  through  all  that  hindereth , 

In  my  life  shall  I  win  great  glory,  and  be  merry  in  my  death." 

So  sweareth  the  lovely  war-king  and  drinketh  of  the  Cup, 

And  the  joy  of  the  people  waxeth  and  their  glad  cry  goeth  up. 

But  again  came  the  girded  maidens :  earls'  daughters  pour  the  wine. 

And  bare  is  the  blade  of  Hogni  in  the  feast-hall  over  the  Swine ; 

Then  he  cries  o'er  the  hallowed  Wood-beast :  "  Earth,  hearken,  how  I  swear 

To  beseech  no  man  for  his  helping,  and  to  vex  no  God  with  prayer ; 

And  to  seek  out  the  will  of  the  Norns,  and  look  in  the  eyes  of  the  curse; 

And  to  laugh  while  the  love  aboundeth,  lest  the  glad  world  grow  into  worse ; 

Then  if  in  the  murder  I  laugh  not,  O  Earth,  remember  my  name. 

And  oft  tell  it  aloud  to  the  people  for  the  Niblungs'  fated  shame ! " 


202  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Then  he  drank  of  the  Ciip  of  the  Promise,  and  all  men  hearkened  and  deemed 
That  his  speech  was  great  and  valiant,  and  as  one  of  the  wise  he  seemed. 

Then  the  linen-folded  maidens  of  the  earl-folk  lift  the  gold ; 

But  the  earls  look  each  on  the  other,  and  Guttorm's  place  behold, 

And  empty  it  lieth  before  them ;  for  the  child  hath  wearied  of  p-eace. 

And  he  sits  by  the  oars  in  the  East-seas,  and  winneth  fame's  increase. 

Nor  then,  nor  ever  after  o'er  the  Holy  Beast  he  spake. 

When  mighty  hearts  were  exalted  for  the  golden  Sigurd's  sake. 

But  now  crieth  Giuki  the  Ancient :  "  O  fair  sons,  well  have  ye  sworn, 
And  gladdened  my  latter-ending,  and  my  kingly  hours  outworn ; 
Full  fain  from  the  halls  of  Odin  on  the  world's  folk  shall  I  gaze 
And  behold  all  hearts  rejoicing  in  the  Niblungs'  glorious  days." 

Glad  cries  of  earls  rose  upward  and  beat  on  the  cloudy  roof. 
And  went  forth  on  the  drift  of  the  autumn  to  the  mountains  far  aloof : 
Speech  stirred  in  the  hearts  of  the  singers,  and  the  harps  might  not  refrain, 
And  they  called  on  the  folk  of  aforetime  of  the  Niblung  joy  to  be  fain. 

But  Sigurd  sitteth  by  Gudrun,  and  his  heart  is  soft  and  kind, 
And  the  pity  swelleth  within  it  for  the  days  when  he  was  blind ; 
And  with  yet  another  pity,  lest  his  sorrow  seen  o'erweigh 
Her  fond  desire's  fulfillment,  and  her  fair  soul's  blooming-day  : 
And  many  a  word  he  frameth  his  kingly  fear  to  hide. 
And  the  tangle  of  his  trouble,  that  her  joy  may  well  abide. 
But  the  joy  so  filleth  Gudrun  and  the  triumph  of  her  bliss. 
That  oft  she  sayeth  within  her :  How  durst  I  dream  of  this .? 
How  durst  I  hope  for  the  days  wherein  I  now  shall  dwell. 
And  that  assured  joyance  whereof  no  tongue  may  tell  ? 

So  fares  the  feast  in  glory  till  thin  the  night  doth  grow, 

And  joy  hath  wearied  the  people,  and  to  rest  and  sleep  they  go : 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  203 

Then  dight  is  the  fateful  bride-bed,  and  the  Norns  will  hinder  nought 
That  the  feet  of  the  Niblung  Maiden  to  the  chamber  of  Kings  be  brought, 
Ard  the  troth  is  pledged  and  wedded,  and  the  Norns  cast  nought  before 
The  feet  of  Sigurd  the  Volsung  and  the  bridal  chamber-door. 

All  hushed  was  the  house  of  the  Niblungs,  and  they  two  were  left  alone 

And  kind  as  a  man  made  happy  was  the  golden  Sigurd  grown, 

As  there  in  the  arms  of  the  mighty  he  clasped  the  Niblung  Maid ; 

But  her  spirit  fainted  within  her,  and  her  very  soul  was  afraid. 

And  her  mouth  was  empty  of  words  when  their  lips  were  sundered  a  space, 

And  in  awe  and  utter  wonder  she  gazed  upon  his  face ; 

As  one  who  hath  prayed  for  a  God  in  the  dwelling  of  man  to  abide, 

And  he  comes,  and  the  face  unfashioned  his  ruth  and  his  mercy  must  hide 

She  trembled  and  wept  before  him,  till  at  last  amidst  her  tears 

The  joy  and  the  hope  of  women  fell  on  her  unawares,  [blessed, 

And  she  sought  the  hands  that  had  held  her,  and  the  face  that  her  face  had 

And  the  bosom  of  Sigurd  the  Mighty,  the  hope  of  her  earthly  rest. 

Then  he  spake  as  she  hearkened  and  wondered :  "  With  the  Kings  of  men 

And  none  but  the  men  of  the  war-fain  our  coming  swords  abode  :     [I  rode, 

O,  dear  was  the  day  of  the  riding,  and  the  hope  of  the  clashing  swords ! 

O,  dear  were  the  deeds  of  battle,  and  the  fall  of  Odin's  lords, 

When  I  met  the  overcomers,  and  beheld  them  overcome, 

When  we  rent  the  spoil  from  the  spoilers,  and  led  the  chasers  home ! 

O,  sweet  was  the  day  of  the  summer  when  we  won  the  ancient  towns, 

And  we  stood  in  the  golden  bowers  and  took  and  gave  the  crowns ! 

And  sweet  were  the  suppliant  faces,  and  the  gifts  and  the  grace  we  gave, 

And  the  life  and  the  wealth  unhoped  for,  and  the  hope  to  heal  and  save : 

And  sweet  was  the  praise  of  the  Niblungs,  and  dear  was  the  song  that  arose 

O'er  the  deed  assured,  accomplished,  and  the  death  of  the  people's  foes ! 

O  joyful  deeds  of  the  mighty !  O  wondrous  life  of  a  king  ! 

Unto  thee  alone  will  I  tell  it,  and  his  fond  imagining, 

That  but  few  of  the  people  wot  of,  as  he  sits  with  face  unmoved 


204  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLS  UNO. 

In  the  place  where  kings  have  perished,  in  the  seat  of  kings  beloved  1 

His  kind  arms  clung  about  her,  and  her  face  to  his  face  he  drew ; 

*'  The  life  of  the  kings  have  I  conquered,  but  this  is  strange  and  new ; 

And  from  out  the  heart  of  the  striving  a  lovelier  thing  is  born, 

And  the  love  of  my  love  is  sweeter  and  these  hours  before  the  morn." 

Again  she  trembled  before  him  and  knew  not  what  she  feared, 
And  her  heart  alone,  unhidden,  deemed  her  love  too  greatly  dared ; 
But  the  very  body  of  Sigurd,  the  wonder  of  all  men. 
Cast  cherishing  arms  about  her,  and  kissed  her  mouth  again. 
And  in  love  her  whole  heart  melted,  and  all  thought  passed  away. 
Save  the  thought  of  joy's  fulfillment  and  the  hours  before  the  day; 
She  murmured  words  of  loving  as  his  kind  lips  cherished  her  breast, 
And  the  world  waxed  nought  but  lovely  and  a  place  of  infinite  rest. 

But  it  was  long  thereafter  ere  the  sun  rose  o'er  their  love. 

And  lit  the  world  of  autumn  and  the  pale  sky  hung  above ; 

And  it  stirred  the  Gods  in  the  heavens,  and  the  Kings  of  the  Goths  it  stirred, 

Till  the  sound  of  the  world  awakening  in  their  latter  dreams  they  heard ; 

And  over  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs  the  day  spread  fair  and  fresh 

O'er  the  hopes  of  the  ancient  people  and  those  twain  become  one  flesh. 


Sigurd  rideth  with  the  Niblungs,  and  wooeth  Brynhild  for 
King  Gunnar, 

Now  it  fell  on  a  day  of  the  spring-tide  that  followed  on  these  things, 
That  Sigurd  fares  to  the  meadows  with  Gunnar  and  Hogni  the  Kings; 
For  afar  is  Guttorm  the  youngest,  and  he  sails  the  Eastern  Seas, 
And  fares  with  war-shield  hoisted  to  win  him  fame's  increase. 
So  come  the  Kings  to  the  Doom-ring,  and  the  people's  Hallowed  Field, 
And  no  dwelling  of  man  is  anigh  it,  and  no  acre  forced  to  yield : 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  105 

There  stay  those  Kings  of  the  people  alone  in  weed  of  war, 

And  they  cut  a  strip  of  the  greensward  on  the  meadow's  daisied  floor, 

And  loosen  it  clean  in  the  midst,  while  its  ends  in  the  earth  abide ; 

Then  they  heave  its  midmost  aloft,  and  set  on  either  side 

An  ancient  spear  of  battle  writ  round  with  words  of  worth ; 

And  these  are  the  posts  of  the  door,  whose  threshold  is  of  the  earth, 

And  the  skin  of  the  earth  is  its  lintel :  but  with  war-glaives  gleaming  bare 

The  Niblung  Kings  and  Sigurd  beneath  the  earth-yoke  fare ; 

Then  each  an  arm-vein  openeth,  and  their  blended  blood  falls  down 

On  Earth  the  fruitful  Mother  where  they  rent  her  turfy  gown : 

And  then,  when  the  blood  of  the  Volsungs  hath  run  with  the  Niblung  blood, 

They  kneel  with  their  hands  upon  it  and  swear  the  brotherhood : 

Each  man  at  his  brother's  bidding  to  come  with  the  blade  in  his  hand, 

Though  the  fire  and  the  flood  should  sunder,  and  the  very  Gods  withstand: 

Each  man  to  love  and  cherish  his  brother's  hope  and  will ; 

Each  man  to  avenge  his  brother  when  the  Norns  his  fate  fulfill : 

And  now  are  they  foster-brethren,  and  in  such  wise  have  they  sworn 

As  the  God-born  Goths  of  aforetime,  when  the  world  was  newly  bom. 

But  among  the  folk  of  the  Niblungs  goes  forth  the  tale  of  the  same. 

And  men  deem  the  tidings  a  glory  and  the  garland  of  their  fame. 

So  is  Sigurd  yet  with  the  Niblungs,  and  he  loveth  Gudrun  his  wife, 

And  wendeth  afield  with  the  brethren  to  the  days  of  the  dooming  of  life ; 

And  nought  his  glory  waneth,  nor  falleth  the  flood  of  praise : 

To  every  man  he  hearkeneth,  nor  gainsayeth  any  grace. 

And  glad  is  the  poor  in  the  Doom-ring  when  he  seeth  his  face  mid  the  Kings, 

FoT  the  tangle  straighteneth  before  him,  and  the  maze  of  crooked  things. 

But  the  smile  is  departed  from  him,  and  the  laugh  of  Sigurd  the  young, 

And  of  few  words  now  is  he  waxen,  and  his  songs  are  seldom  sung. 

Howbeit  of  all  the  sad-faced  was  Sigurd  loved  the  best ; 

And  men  say :  Is  the  king's  heart  mighty  beyond  all  hope  of  rest  ? 

Lo,  how  he  beareth  the  people !  how  heavy  their  woes  are  grown  ! 

So  oft  were  a  God  mid  the  Goth-folk,  if  he  dwelt  in  the  world  alone. 


so6  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Now  Giuki  the  King  of  the  Niblungs  must  change  his  life  at  the  last, 
And  they  lay  him  down  in  the  mountains  and  a  great  mound  over  him  cast  •. 
For  thus  had  he  said  in  his  life-days :  "  When  my  hand  from  the  people 

shall  fade, 
Up  there  on  the  side  of  the  mountains  shall  the  King  of  the  Niblungs  be  laid. 
Whence  one  seeth  the  plain  of  the  tillage  and  the  fields  where  man-folk  go; 
Then  whiles  in  the  dawn's  awakening,  when  the  day-wind  riseth  to  blow, 
Shall  I  see  the  war-gates  opening,  and  the  joy  of  my  shielded  men 
As  they  look  to  the  field  of  the  dooming ;  and  whiles  in  the  even  again 
Shall  I  see  the  spoil  come  homeward,  and  the  host  of  the  Niblungs  pour 
Through  the  gates  that  the  Dwarf-folk  builded  and  the  well-belovbd  door." 

So  there  lieth  Giuki  the  King,  mid  steel  and  the  glimmer  of  gold, 
As  the  sound  of  the  feastful  Niblungs  round  his  misty  house  is  rolled : 
But  Gunnar  is  King  of  the  people,  and  the  chief  of  the  Niblung  land ; 
A  man  beloved  for  his  mercy,  and  his  might  and  his  open  hand ; 
A  glorious  king  in  the  battle,  a  hearkener  at  the  doom, 
A  singer  to  sing  the  sun  up  from  the  heart  of  the  midnight  gloom. 

On  a  day  sit  the  Kings  in  the  high-seat  when  Grimhild  saith  to  her  son : 

"  O  Gunnar,  King  beloved,  a  fair  life  hast  thou  won ; 

On  the  flood,  in  the  field  hast  thou  wrought,  and  hung  the  chambers  with  gold : 

Far  abroad  mid  many  a  people  are  the  tidings  of  thee  told : 

Now  do  a  deed  for  thy  mother  and  the  hallowed  Niblung  hearth. 

Lest  the  house  of  the  mighty  perish,  and  our  tale  grow  wan  with  dearth. 

If  thou  do  the  deed  that  I  bid  thee,  and  wed  a  wife  of  the  Kings, 

No  less  shalt  thou  cleave  the  war-helms,  and  scatter  the  ruddy  rings." 

He  said :  "  Meseemeth,  mother,  thou  speakest  not  in  haste. 

But  hast  sought  and  found  beforehand,  lest  thy  fair  words  fall  to  waste." 

She  said :  "  Thou  sayest  the  sooth ;  I  have  found  the  thing  I  sought : 
A  Maid  for  thee  is  shapen,  and  a  Queen  for  thee  is  wrought : 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  207 

In  the  waste  land  hard  by  Lymdale  a  marvellous  hall  is  built, 
With  its  roof  of  tke  red  gold  beaten,  and  its  wall-stones  over-gilt : 
Afar  o'er  the  heath  men  see  it,  but  no  man  draweth  nigher, 
For  the  garth  that  goeth  about  it  is  nought  but  the  roaring  fire, 
A  white  wall  waving  aloft ;  and  no  window  nor  wicket  is  there, 
Whereby  the  shielded  earl-folk  or  the  sons  of  the  merchants  may  fare 
But  few  things  from  me  are  hidden,  and  I  know  in  that  hall  of  gold 
Sits  Brynhild,  white  as  a  wild-swan  where  the  foamless  seas  are  rolled ; 
And  the  daughter  of  Kings  of  the  world,  and  the  sister  of  Queens  is  she. 
And  wise,  and  Odin's  Chooser,  and  the  Breath  of  Victory : 
3ut  for  this  cause  sitteth  she  thus  in  the  ring  of  the  Wavering  Flame, 
That  no  son  of  the  Kings  will  she  wed  save  the  mightiest  master  of  fame, 
And  the  man  who  knoweth  not  fear,  and  the  man  foredoomed  of  fate 
To  ride  through  her  Wavering  Fire  to  the  door  of  her  golden  gate : 
And  for  him  she  sitteth  and  waiteth,  and  him  shall  she  cherish  and  love. 
Though  the  Kings  of  the  world  should  withstand  it,  and  the  Gods  that  sit 
Speak  thou,  O  mighty  Gunnar  ! — nay  rather,  Sigurd  my  son,  [above. 

Say  who  but  the  lord  of  the  Niblungs  should  wed  with  this  glorious  one .?  " 

Long  Sigurd  gazeth  upon  her,  and  slow  he  sayeth  again : 

"  I  know  thy  will,  my  mother ;  of  all  the  sons  of  men, 

Of  all  the  Kings  unwedded,  and  the  kindred  of  the  great. 

It  is  meet  that  my  brother  Gunnar  should  ride  to  her  golden  gate." 

Then  laughed  Gunnar  and  answered  :  "  May  a  king  of  the  people  fear  ? 
May  a  king  of  the  harp  and  the  hall-glee  hold  such  a  maid  but  dear? 
Yet  nought  have  I  and  my  kindred  to  do  with  fateful  deeds  ; 
Lo,  how  the  fair  earth  bloometh,  and  the  field  fulfilleth  our  needs,      [stall, 
And  our  swords  rust  not  in  our  scabbards,  and  our  steeds  bide  not  in  the 
And  oft  are  the  shields  of  the  Niblungs  drawn  clanking  down  from  the  wall ; 
And  I  sit  by  my  brother  Sigurd,  and  no  ill  there  is  in  our  life,  [strife. 

And  the  harp  and  the  sword  is  beside  me,  and  I  joy  in  the  peace  and  the 
So  I  live,  till  at  last  in  the  sword-play  midst  the  uttermost  longing  of  fame 


«o8  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

I  shall  change  my  life  and  be  merry,  and  leave  no  hated  name. 
Yet  nevertheless,  my  mother,  since  the  word  hath  thus  gone  forth, 
And  I  wot  of  thy  great  desire,  I  will  reach  at  this  garland  of  worth  j 
And  I  bid  you.  Kings  and  Brethren,  with  the  wooer  of  Queens  to  ride, 
That  ye  tell  of  the  thing  hereafter,  and  the  deeds  that  shall  betide." 

"  It  were  well,  O  Son,"  said  Grimhild,  "  in  such  fellowship  to  fare  ; 
But  not  today  nor  tomorrow ;  the  hearts  of  the  Gods  would  I  wear, 
And  know  of  the  will  of  the  Norns ;  for  a  mighty  matter  is  this, 
And  a  deed  all  lands  shall  tell  of,  and  the  hope  of  the  Niblung  bliss." 

So  apart  for  long  dwelt  Grimhild,  and  mingled  the  might  of  the  earth 

With  the  deeds  of  the  chilly  sea,  and  the  heart  of  the  cloudland's  dearth ; 

And  all  these  with  the  wine  she  mingled,  and  sore  guile  was  set  therein, 

Blindness,  and  strong  compelling  for  such  as  dared  to  win : 

And  she  gave  the  drink  to  her  sons ;  and  withal  unto  Gunnar  she  spake. 

And  told  him  tales  of  the  King-folk,  and  smote  desire  awake ; 

Till  many  a  time  he  bethinks  him  of  the  Maiden  sitting  alone,  [grown, 

And  the  Queen  that  was  shapen  for  him ;  till  a  dream  of  the  night  is  she 

And  a  tale  of  the  day's  desire,  and  the  crown  of  all  his  praise : 

And  the  net  of  the  Norns  was  about  him,  and  the  snare  was  spread  in  his  ways. 

And  his  mother's  will  was  spurring  adown  the  way  they  would ; 

For  she  was  the  wise  of  women  and  the  framer  of  evil  and  good. 

In  the  May-morn  riseth  Gunnar  with  fair  face  and  gleaming  eyes, 
And  he  calleth  on  Sigurd  his  brother,  and  he  calleth  on  Hogni  the  wise : 
"  Today  shall  we  fare  to  the  wooing,  for  so  doth  our  mother  bid ; 
We  shall  go  to  gaze  on  marvels,  and  things  from  the  King-folk  hid." 

So  they  do  on  the  best  of  their  war-gear,  and  their  steeds  are  dight  for  the  road, 
And  forth  to  the  sun  neigheth  Greyfell  as  he  neighed  'neath  the  Golden  Load : 
But  or  ever  they  leap  to  the  saddle,  while  yet  in  the  door  they  stand, 
Thereto  cometh  Grimhild  the  wise-wife,  and  on  each  head  layeth  her  handj 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD. 


209 


As  she  saith :  "  Be  mighty  and  wise,  as  the  kings  that  came  before  ! 

Foi  they  knew  of  the  ways  of  the  Gods,  and  the  craft  of  the  Gods  they  bore  •. 

And  they  knew  how  the  shapes  of  man-folk  are  the  very  images 

Of  the  hearts  that  abide  within  them,  and  they  knew  of  the  shaping  of  these. 

Be  wise  and  mighty,  O  Kings,  and  look  in  mine  heart  and  behold 

The  craft  that  prevaileth  o'er  semblance,  and  the  treasured  wisdom  of  old  ' 

I  hallow  you  thus  for  the  day,  and  I  hallow  you  thus  for  the  night, 

And  I  hallow  you  thus  for  the  dawning  with  my  fathers'  hidden  might. 

Go  now,  for  ye  bear  my  will  while  I  sit  in  the  hall  and  spin ; 

And  tonight  shall  be  the  weaving,  and  tomorn  the  web  shall  ye  win." 

So  they  leap  to  the  saddles  aloft,  and  they  ride  and  speak  no  word. 
But  the  hills  and  the  dales  are  awakened  by  the  clink  of  the  sheathed  sword  : 
None  looks  in  the  face  of  the  other,  but  the  earth  and  the  heavens  gaze. 
And  behold  those  kings  of  battle  ride  down  the  dusty  ways. 

So  they  come  to  the  Waste  of  Lymdale  when  the  afternoon  is  begun, 
And  afar  they  see  the  flame-blink  on  the  grey  sky  under  the  sun : 
And  they  spur  and  speak  no  word,  and  no  man  to  his  fellow  will  turn ; 
But  they  see  the  hills  draw  upward  and  the  earth  beginning  to  burn : 
And  they  ride,  and  the  eve  is  coming,  and  the  sun  hangs  low  o'er  the  earth. 
And  the  red  flame  roars  up  to  it  from  the  midst  of  the  desert's  dearth. 
None  turns  or  speaks  to  his  brother,  but  the  Wrath  gleams  bare  and  red, 
And  blood-red  is  the  Helm  of  Aweing  on  the  golden  Sigurd's  head. 
And  bare  is  the  blade  of  Gunnar,  and  the  first  of  the  three  he  rides. 
And  the  wavering  wall  is  before  him  and  the  golden  sun  it  hides. 

Then  the  heart  of  a  king's  son  failed  not,  but  he  tossed  his  sword  on  high 
And  laughed  as  he  spurred  for  the  fire,  and  cried  the  Niblung  cry ; 
But  the  mare's  son  saw  and  imagined,  and  the  battle-eager  steed, 
That  so  oft  had  pierced  the  spear-hedge  and  never  failed  at  need. 
Shrank  back,  and  shrieked  in  his  terror,  and  spite  of  spur  and  rein 
Fled  fast  as  the  foals  unbitted  on  Odin's  pasturing  plain  ; 

14 


2IO  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Wide  then  he  wheeled  with  Gunnar,  but  with  hand  and  knee  he  dealt, 

And  the  voice  of  a  lord  beloved,  till  the  steed  his  master  felt, 

And  bore  him  back  to  the  brethren ;  by  Greyfell  Sigurd  stood, 

And  stared  at  the  heart  of  the  fire,  and  his  helm  was  red  as  blood ; 

But  Hogni  sat  in  his  saddle,  and  watched  the  flames  up-roU ; 

And  he  said :  "  Thy  steed  has  failed  thee  that  was  once  the  noblest  foal 

In  the  pastures  of  King  Giuki ;  but  since  thine  heart  fails  not, 

And  thou  wouldst  not  get  thee  backward  and  say,  The  fire  was  hot. 

And  the  voices  pent  within  it  were  singing  nought  but  death, 

Let  Sigurd  lend  thee  his  steed  that  wore  the  Glittering  Heath, 

And  carried  the  Bed  of  the  Serpent,  and  the  ancient  ruddy  rings. 

So  perchance  may  the  mocks  be  lesser  when  men  tell  of  the  Niblung  Kings." 

Then  Sigurd  looked  on  the  twain,  and  he  saw  their  swart  hair  wave 

In  the  wind  of  the  waste  and  the  flame-blast,  and  no  answer  awhile  he  gave. 

But  at  last  he  spake  :  "  O  brother,  on  Greyfell  shalt  thou  ride, 

And  do  on  the  Helm  of  Aweing  and  gird  the  Wrath  to  thy  side, 

And  cover  thy  breast  with  the  war-coat  that  is  thoroughly  woven  of  gold, 

That  hath  not  its  like  in  the  heavens  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told : 

For  this  is  the  raiment  of  Kings  when  they  ride  the  Flickering  Fire, 

And  so  sink  the  flames  before  them  and  the  might  of  their  desire." 

Then  Hogni  laughed  in  his  heart,  and  he  said  :  "  This  changing  were  well 
If  so  might  the  deed  be  accomplished  ;  but  perchance  there  is  more  to  tell 
Thou  shalt  take  the  war-steed,  Gunnar,  and  enough  or  nought  it  shall  be 
But  the  coal-blue  gear  of  the  Niblungs  the  golden  hall  shall  see." 

Then  Sigurd  looked  on  the  speaker,  as  one  who  would  answer  again, 
But  his  words  died  out  on  the  waste  and  the  fire-blast  made  them  vain. 
Then  he  casteth  the  reins  to  his  brother,  and  Gunnar  praiseth  his  gift. 
And  springeth  aloft  to  the  saddle  as  the  fair  sun  fails  from  the  lift ; 
And  Sigurd  looks  on  the  burden  that  Greyfell  doth  uprear, 
The  huge  king  towering  upward  in  the  dusky  Niblung  gear : 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  211 

There  sits  the  eager  Gunnar,  and  his  heart  desires  the  deed, 

And  of  nought  he  recketh  and  thinketh,  but  a  fame-stirred  warrior's  need ; 

But  Gre3rfell  trembleth  nothing  and  nought  of  the  fire  doth  reck : 

Then  the  spurs  in  his  flank  are  smitten,  and  the  reins  lie  loose  on  his  neck, 

And  the  sharp  cry  springeth  from  Gunnar — no  handbreadth  stirred  the 

The  dusk  drew  on  and  over  and  the  light  of  the  fire  increased,         [beast; 

And  still  as  a  shard  of  the  mountain  in  the  sandy  dale  alone 

Was  the  shape  of  the  cloudy  Greyfell,  nor  moved  he  more  than  the  stone ; 

But  right  through  the  heart  of  the  fire  for  ever  Sigurd  stared. 

As  he  stood  in  the  gold  red-litten  with  the  Wrath's  thin  edges  bared. 

No  word  for  a  while  spake  any,  till  Gunnar  leapt  to  the  earth 

And  the  anger  wrought  within  him,  and  the  fierce  words  came  to  birth  : 

"  Who  mocketh  the  King  of  the  Niblungs  in  the  desert  land  forlorn  ? 

Is  it  thou,  O  Sigurd  the  Stranger  ?  is  it  thou,  O  younger-born  ? 

Dost  thou  laugh  in  the  hall,  O  Mother  ?  dost  thou  spin,  and  laugh  at  the  tale 

That  has  drawn  thy  son  and  thine  eldest  to  the  sword  and  the  blaze  of  the 

Or  thou,  O  God  of  the  Goths,  wilt  thou  hide  and  laugh  thy  fill,  [bale? 

While  the  hands  of  the  fosterbrethren  the  blood  of  brothers  spill  ?  " 

But  the  awful  voice  of  Sigurd  across  the  wild  went  forth : 

"  How  changed  are  the  words  of  Gunnar !  where  wend  his  ways  of  worth  ? 

I  mock  thee  not  in  the  desert,  as  I  mocked  thee  not  in  the  mead, 

When  I  swore  beneath  the  turf-yoke  to  help  thy  fondest  need : 

Nay  strengthen  thine  heart  for  the  work,  for  the  gift  that  thy  manhood  awaits  , 

For  I  give  thee  a  gift,  O  Niblung,  that  shall  overload  the  Fates, 

And  how  may  a  King  sustain  it  ?  but  forbear  with  the  dark  to  strive ; 

For  thy  mother  spinneth  and  worketh,  and  her  craft  is  awake  and  alive." 

Then  Hogni  spake  from  the  saddle  :  "  The  time,  and  the  time  is  come 
To  gather  the  might  of  our  mother,  and  of  her  that  spinneth  at  home. 
Forbear  all  words,  O  Gunnar,  and  anigh  to  Sigurd  stand. 
And  face  to  face  behold  him,  and  take  his  hand  in  thine  hand : 


fi2  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Then  be  thy  will  as  his  will,  that  his  heart  may  mingle  with  thine, 
And  the  love  that  he  sware  'neath  the  earth-yoke  with  thine  hope  may  in- 

[tertwine." 
Then  the  wrath  from  the  Niblung  slippeth  and  the  shame  that  anger  hath  bred 
And  the  heavy  wings  of  the  dreamtide  flit  over  Gunnar's  head : 
But  he  doth  by  his  brother's  bidding,  and  Sigurd's  hand  he  takes. 
And  he  looks  in  the  eyes  of  the  Volsung,  though  scarce  in  the  desert  he 
There  Hogni  sits  in  the  saddle  aloof  from  the  King's  desire,  [wakes. 

And  little  his  lips  are  moving,  as  he  stares  on  the  rolling  fire. 
And  mutters  the  spells  of  his  mother,  and  the  words  she  bade  him  say : 
But  the  craft  of  the  kings  of  aforetime  on  those  Kings  of  the  battle  lay ; 
Dark  night  was  spread  behind  them,  and  the  fire  flared  up  before,       [roar. 
And  unheard  was  the  wind  of  the  wasteland  mid  the  white  flame's  wavering 

Long  Sigurd  gazeth  on  Gunnar,  till  he  sees,  as  through  a  cloud, 

The  long  black  locks  of  the  Niblung,  and  the  King's  face  set  and  proud : 

Then  the  face  is  alone  on  the  dark,  and  the  dusky  Niblung  mail 

Is  nought  but  the  night  before  him  :  then  whiles  will  the  visage  fail. 

And  grow  again  as  he  gazeth,  black  hair  and  gleaming  eyes. 

And  fade  again  into  nothing,  as  for  more  of  vision  he  tries : 

Then  all  is  nought  but  the  night,  yea  the  waste  of  an  emptier  thing, 

And  the  fire-wall  Sigurd  forgetteth,  nor  feeleth  the  hand  of  the  King : 

Nay,  what  is  it  now  he  remembereth  ?  it  is  nought  that  aforetime  he  knew, 

And  no  world  is  there  left  him  to  live  in,  and  no  deed  to  rejoice  in  or  rue ; 

But  frail  and  alone  he  fareth,  and  as  one  in  the  sphere-stream's  drift, 

By  the  starless  empty  places  that  lie  beyond  the  lift : 

Then  at  last  is  he  stayed  in  his  drifting,  and  he  saith.  It  is  blind  and  dark ; 

Yet  he  feeleth  the  earth  at  his  feet,  and  there  cometh  a  change  and  a  spark, 

And  away  in  an  instant  of  time  is  the  mirk  of  the  dreamland  rolled, 

And  there  is  the  fire-lit  midnight,  and  before  him  an  image  of  gold, 

A  man  in  the  raiment  of  Gods,  nor  fashioned  worser  than  they : 

Full  sad  he  gazeth  on  Sigurd  from  the  great  wide  eyes  and  grey ; 

And  the  Helm  that  Aweth  the  people  is  set  on  the  golden  hair, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  213 

And  the  Mail  of  Gold  enwraps  him,  and  the  Wrath  in  his  hand  is  bare. 

Then  Sigurd  looks  on  his  arm  and  his  hand  in  his  brother's  hand, 
And  thereon  is  the  dark  grey  mail-gear  well  forged  in  the  southern  land ; 
Then  he  looks  on  the  sword  that  he  beareth,  and,  lo,  the  eager  blade 
That  leaps  in  the  hand  of  Gunnar  when  the  kings  are  waxen  afraid  j 
And  he  turns  his  face  o'er  his  shoulder,  and  the  raven  locks  hang  down 
From  the  dark-blue  helm  of  the  Dwarf-folk,  and  the  rings  of  the  Niblung 

[crown. 
Then  a  red  flush  riseth'against  him  in  the  face  ne'er  seen  before. 
Save  dimly  in  the  mirror  or  the  burnished  targe  of  war. 
And  the  foster-brethren  sunder,  and  the  clasped  hands  fall  apart ; 
But  a  change  cometh  over  Sigurd,  and  the  fierce  pride  leaps  in  his  heart ; 
He  knoweth  the  soul  of  Gunnar,  and  the  shaping  of  his  mind ; 
He  seeketh  the  words  of  Sigurd,  and  Gunnar's  voice  doth  he  find, 
As  he  cries  :  "  I  know  thy  bidding;  let  the  world  be  lief  or  loth. 
The  child  is  unborn  that  shall  hearken  how  Sigurd  rued  his  oath  I 
Well  fare  thou  brother  Gunnar !  what  deed  shall  I  do  this  eve 
That  I  shall  never  repent  of,  that  thine  heart  shall  never  grieve  ? 
What  deed  shall  I  do  this  even  that  none  else  may  bring  to  the  birth, 
Nay  not  the  King  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  lord  of  the  best  of  the  earth  ?  '* 

The  flames  rolled  up  to  the  heavens,  and  the  stars  behind  were  bright, 

Dark  Hogni  sat  on  his  war-steed,  and  stared  out  into  the  night. 

And  there  stood  Gunnar  the  King  in  Sigurd's  semblance  wrapped, 

—  As  Sigurd  walking  in  slumber,  for  in  Grimhild's  guile  was  he  lapped. 

That  his  heart  forgat  his  glory,  and  the  ways  of  Odin's  lords. 

And  the  thought  was  frozen  within  him,  and  the  might  of  spoken  words. 

But  Sigurd  leapeth  on  Greyfell,  and  the  sword  in  his  hand  is  bare, 
And  the  gold  spurs  flame  on  his  heels,  and  the  fire-blast  lifteth  his  hair; 
Forth  Greyfell  bounds  rejoicing,  and  they  see  the  grey  wax  red, 
As  unheard  the  war-gear  clasheth,  and  the  flames  meet  over  his  head. 


214  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Yet  awhile  they  see  him  riding,  as  through  the  rye  men  ride, 
When  the  word  goes  forth  in  the  summer  of  the  kings  by  the  ocean-side ; 
But  the  fires  were  slaked  before  him  and  the  wild-fire  burned  no  more 
Than  the  ford  of  the  summer  waters  when  the  rainy  time  is  o'er. 

Not  once  turned  Sigurd  aback,  nor  looked  o'er  the  ashy  ring, 

To  the  midnight  wilderness  drear  and  the  spell-drenched  Niblung  King: 

But  he  stayed  and  looked  before  him,  and  lo,  a  house  high-built, 

With  its  roof  of  the  red  gold  beaten,  and  its  wall-stones  over-gilt : 

So  he  leapt  adown  from  Greyfell,  and  came  to  that  fair  abode 

And  dark  in  the  gear  of  the  Niblungs  through  the  gleaming  door  he  strode 

All  light  within  was  that  dwelling,  and  a  marvellous  hall  it  was. 

But  of  gold  were  its  hangings  woven,  and  its  pillars  gleaming  as  glass, 

And  Sigurd  said  in  his  heart,  it  was  wrought  erewhile  for  a  God : 

But  he  looked  athwart  and  endlong  as  alone  its  floor  he  trod, 

And  lo,  on  the  height  of  the  dais  is  upreared  a  graven  throne, 

And  thereon  a  woman  sitting  in  the  golden  place  alone ; 

Her  face  is  fair  and  awful,  and  a  gold  crown  girdeth  her  head ; 

And  a  sword  of  the  kings  she  beareth,  and  her  sun-bright  hair  is  shed 

O'er  the  laps  of  the  snow-white  linen  that  ripples  adown  to  her  feet : 

As  a  swan  on  the  billow  unbroken  ere  the  firth  and  the  ocean  meet, 

On  the  dark-blue  cloths  she  sitteth,  in  the  height  of  the  golden  place, 

Nor  breaketh  the  hush  of  the  hall,  though  her  eyes  be  set  on  his  face. 

Now  he  sees  this  is  even  the  woman  of  whom  the  tale  hath  been  told. 
E'en  she  that  was  wrought  for  the  Niblungs,  the  bride  ordained  from  of  old, 
And  hushed  in  the  hall  he  standeth,  and  a  long  while  looks  in  her  eyes. 
And  the  word  he  hath  shapen  for  Gunnar  to  his  lips  may  never  arise. 

The  man  in  Gunnar's  semblance  looked  long  and  knew  no  deed ; 

And  she  looked,  and  her  eyes  were  dreadful,  and  none  would  help  her  need. 

Then  the  image  of  Gunnar  trembled,  and  the  flesh  of  the  War-King  shrank ; 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  215 

For  he  heard  her  voice  on  the  silence,  and  his  heart  of  her  anguish  drank ; 

"  King,  King,  who  art  thou  that  comest,  thou  lord  of  the  cloudy  gear  ? 
What  deed  for  the  weary-hearted  shall  thy  strange  hands  fashion  here  ? " 

The  speech  of  her  lips  pierced  through  him  like  the  point  of  the  bitter  sword, 

And  he  deemed  that  death  were  better  than  another  spoken  word : 

But  he  clenched  his  hand  on  the  war-blade,  and  setteth  his  face  as  the  brass, 

And  the  voice  of  his  brother  Gunnar  from  out  his  lips  doth  pass  : 

"  When  thou  lookest  on  me,  O  Goddess,  thou  seest  Gunnar  the  King, 

The  King  and  the  lord  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  chief  of  their  warfaring. 

But  art  thou  indeed  that  Brynhild  of  whom  is  the  rumour  and  fame, 

That  she  bideth  the  coming  of  kings  to  ride  her  Wavering  Flame, 

Lest  she  wed  the  little-hearted,  and  the  world  grow  evil  and  vile  ? 

For  if  thou  be  none  other  I  will  speak  again  in  a  while." 

She  said :  "  Art  thou  Gunnar  the  Stranger  ?    O  art  thou  the  man  that  I  see  i 
Yea,  verily  I  am  Brynhild :  what  other  is  like  unto  me  ? 
O  men  of  the  Earth  behold  me !  hast  thou  seen,  O  labouring  Earth, 
Such  sorrow  as  my  sorrow,  or  such  evil  as  my  birth } " 

Then  spake  the  Wildfire's  Trampler  that  Gunnar's  image  bore : 
"  O  Brynhild,  mighty  of  women,  be  thou  glorious  evermore  ! 
Thou  seest  Gunnar  the  Niblung,  as  he  sits  mid  the  Niblung  lords. 
And  rides  with  the  gods  of  battle  in  the  fore-front  of  the  swords. 
Now  therefore  awaken  to  life !  for  this  eve  have  I  ridden  thy  Fire, 
When  but  few  of  the  kings  would  outface  it,  to  fulfill  thine  heart's  desire. 
And  such  love  is  the  love  of  the  kings,  and  such  token  have  women  to  kno\» 
That  they  wed  with  God's  belovbd,  and  that  fair  from  their  bed  shall  outgrow 
The  stem  of  the  world's  desire,  and  the  tree  that  shall  not  be  abased. 
Till  the  day  of  the  uttermost  trial  when  the  war-shield  of  Odin  is  raised. 
So  my  word  is  the  word  of  wooing,  and  I  bid  thee  remember  thine  oath, 
That  here  in  this  hall  fair-builded  we  twain  may  plight  the  troth ; 


2i6  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

That  here  in  the  hall  of  thy  waiting  thou  be  made  a  wedded  wife, 
And  be  called  the  Queen  of  the  Niblungs,  and  awaken  unto  life." 

Hard  rang  his  voice  in  the  hall,  and  a  while  she  spake  no  word, 
And  there  stood  the  Image  of  Gunnar,  and  leaned  on  his  bright  blue  sword : 
But  at  last  she  cried  from  the  high-seat ;  "  If  I  yet  am  alive  and  awake, 
I  know  no  words  for  the  speaking,  nor  what  answer  I  may  make." 

She  ceased  and  he  answered  nothing ;  and  a  hush  on  the  hall  there  lay, 
And  the  moon  slipped  over  the  windows  as  he  clomb  the  heavenly  way ; 
And  no  whit  stirred  the  raiment  of  Brynhild :  till  she  hearkened  the  Wooer's 

voice. 
As  he  said :  "  Thou  art  none  of  the  women  that  swear  and  forswear  and  rejoice. 
Forgetting  the  sorrow  of  kings  and  the  Gods  and  the  labouring  earth. 
Thou  shalt  wed  with  King  Gunnar  the  Niblung  and  increase  his  worth  with 

[thy  worth." 
And  again  was  there  silence  a  while,  and  the  War-King  leaned  on  his  sword 
In  the  shape  of  his  foster-brother ;  then  Brynhild  took  up  the  word  : 
"  Hail  Gunnar,  King  of  the  Niblungs !  tonight  shalt  thou  lie  by  my  side, 
For  thou  art  the  Gods'  beloved,  and  for  thee  was  I  shapen  a  bride : 
For  thee,  for  the  King,  have  I  waited,  and  the  waiting  now  is  done ; 
I  shall  bear  Earth's  kings  on  my  bosom  and  nourish  the  Niblung's  son. 
Though  women  swear  and  forswear,  and  are  glad  no  less  in  their  life. 
Tonight  shall  I  wed  with  the  King-folk  and  be  called  King  Gunnar's  wife. 
Come  Gunnar,  Lord  of  the  Niblungs,  and  sit  in  my  fathers'  seat ! 
For  for  thee  alone  was  it  shapen,  and  the  deed  is  due  and  meet." 

Up  she  rose  exceeding  glorious,  and  it  was  as  when  in  May 
The  blossomed  hawthorn  stirreth  with  the  dawning-wind  of  day ; 
But  the  Wooer  moved  to  meet  her,  and  amid  the  golden  place 
They  met,  and  their  garments  mingled  and  face  was  close  to  face ; 
And  they  turned  again  to  the  high-seat,  and  their  very  right  hands  met, 
And  King  Gunnar's  bodily  semblance  beside  her  Brynhild  set. 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  217 

But  over  his  knees  and  the  mail-rings  the  high  King  laid  his  sword, 
And  looked  in  the  face  of  Brynhild  and  swore  King  Gunnar's  word : 
He  swore  on  the  hand  of  Brynhild  to  be  true  to  his  wedded  wife, 
And  before  all  things  to  love  her  till  all  folk  should  praise  her  life. 
Unmoved  did  Brynhild  hearken,  and  in  steady  voice  she  swore 
To  be  true  to  Gunnar  the  Niblun^  while  her  life-days  should  endure ; 
So  she  swore  on  the  hand  of  the  Wooer :  and  they  two  were  all  alone, 
And  they  sat  a  while  in  the  high-seat  when  the  wedding  troth  was  done, 
But  no  while  looked  each  on  the  other,  and  hand  fell  down  from  hand. 
And  no  speech  there  was  betwixt  them  that  their  hearts  might  understand, 

At  last  spake  the  all-wise  Brynhild :  "Now  night  is  beginning  to  fade, 
Fair-hung  is  the  chamber  bi  Kings,  and  the  bridal  bed  is  arrayed." 

He  rose  and  looked  upon  her :  as  the  moon  at  her  utmost  height, 

So  pale  was  the  visage  of  Brynhild,  and  her  eyes  as  cold  and  bright :     [space. 

Yet  he  stayed,  nor  stirred  from  the  high-seat,  but  strove  with  the  words  for  a 

Till  she  took  the  hand  of  the  King  and  led  him  down  from  his  place. 

And  forth  from  the  hall  she  led  him  to  the  chamber  wrought  for  her  love  j 

The  fairest  chamber  of  earth,  gold-wrought  below  and  above. 

And  hung  were  the  walls  f  air-builded  with  the  Gods  and  the  kings  of  the  earth 

And  the  deeds  that  were  done  aforetime,  and  the  coming  deeds  of  worth. 

There  they  went  in  one  bed  together ;  but  the  foster-brother  laid 

'Twixt  him  and  the  body  of  Brynhild  his  bright  blue  battle-blade, 

And  she  looked  and  heeded  it  nothing ;  but,  e'en  as  the  dead  folk  lie, 

With  folded  hands  she  lay  there,  and  let  the  night  go  by ; 

And  as  still  lay  that  Image  of  Gunnar  as  the  dead  of  life  forlorn, 

And  hand  on  hand  he  folded  as  he  waited  for  the  morn. 

So  oft  in  the  moonlit  minster  your  fathers  may  ye  see 

By  the  side  of  the  ancient  mothers  await  the  day  to  be. 

Thus  they  lay  as  brother  by  sister  —  and  e'en  such  had  they  been  to  behold, 

Had  he  borne  the  Volsung's  semblance  and  the  shape  she  knew  of  old. 

Night  hushed  as  the  moon  fell  downward,  and  there  came  the  leaden  sleep 


2i8  THE   STORY  OF  SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  weighed  down  the  head  of  the  War-King,  that  he  lay  in  slumber  deep, 

And  forgat  today  and  tomorrow,  and  forgotten  yesterday; 

Till  he  woke  in  the  dawn  and  the  daylight,  and  the  sun  on  the  gold  floor  lay, 

And  Brynhild  wakened  beside  him,  and  she  lay  with  folded  hands 

By  the  edges  forged  of  Regin  and  the  wonder  of  the  lands. 

The  Light  that  had  lain  in  the  Branstock,  the  hope  of  the  Volsung  Tree, 

The  Sunderer,  the  Deliverer,  the  torch  of  days  to  be : 

Then  he  strove  to  remember  the  night  and  what  deeds  had  come  to  pass. 

And  what  deeds  he  should  do  hereafter,  and  what  manner  of  man  he  was , 

For  there  in  the  golden  chamber  lay  the  dark  unwonted  gear. 

And  beside  his  cheek  on  the  pillow  were  long  locks  of  the  raven  hair : 

But  at  last  he  remembered  the  even  and  the  deed  he  came  to  do. 

And  he  turned  and  spake  to  Brynhild  as  he  rose  from  the  bolster  blue : 

"  I  give  thee  thanks,  fair  woman,  for  the  wedding-troth  fulfilled ; 

I  have  come  where  the  Norns  have  led  me,  and  done  as  the  high  Gods  willed : 

But  now  give  we  the  gifts  of  the  morning,  for  I  needs  must  depart  to  my  men 

And  look  on  the  Niblung  children,  and  rule  o'er  the  people  again. 

But  I  thank  thee  well  for  thy  greeting,  and  thy  glory  that  I  have  seen. 

For  but  little  thereto  are  those  tidings  that  folk  have  told  of  the  Queen. 

Henceforth  with  the  Niblung  people  anew  beginneth  thy  life, 

And  fair  days  of  peace  await  thee,  and  fair  days  of  glorious  strife. 

And  my  heart  shall  be  grieved  at  thy  grief,  and  be  glad  of  thy  well-doing, 

And  all  men  shall  say  thou  hast  wedded  a  true  heart  and  a  king." 

So  spake  he  in  semblance  of  Gunnar,  and  from  off  his  hand  he  drew 

A  ring  of  the  spoils  of  the  Southland,  a  marvel  seen  but  of  few, 

And  he  set  the  ring  on  her  finger,  and  she  turned  to  her  lord  and  spake : 

**  I  thank  thee.  King,  for  thy  goodwill,  and  thy  pledge  of  love  I  take. 

Depart  with  my  troth  to  thy  people  :  but  ere  full  ten  days  are  o'er 

I  shall  come  to  the  Sons  of  the  Niblungs,  and  then  shall  we  part  no  more 

Till  the  day  of  the  change  of  our  life-days,  when  Odin  and  Freyia  shall  call. 

Lo  here,  my  gift  of  the  morning  !  'twas  my  dearest  treasure  of  all ; 

But  thou  art  become  its  master,  and  for  thee  was  it  fore-ordained, 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  219 

Since  thou  art  the  man  of  mine  oath  and  the  best  that  the  earth  hath  gained." 

And  lo,  'twas  the  Grief  of  Andvari,  and  the  lack  that  made  him  loth, 

The  last  of  the  God-folk's  ransom,  the  Ring  of  Hindfell's  oath ; 

Now  on  Sigurd's  hand  it  shineth,  and  long  he  looketh  thereon. 

But  it  gave  him  back  no  memories  of  the  days  that  were  bygone. 

Then  in  most  exceeding  sorrow  rose  Sigurd  from  the  bed, 

And  again  lay  Brynhild  silent  as  an  image  of  the  dead. 

Then  the  King  did  on  his  war-gear  and  girt  his  sword  to  his  side, 

And  was  e'en  as  an  image  of  Gunnar  when  the  Niblungs  dight  them  to  ride, 

And  she  on  the  bed  of  the  bridal,  remembering  hope  that  was, 

Lay  still,  and  hearkened  his  footsteps  from  the  echoing  chamber  pass. 

So  forth  from  the  hall  goes  the  Wooer,  and  slow  and  slow  he  goes, 

As  a  conquered  king  from  his  city  fares  forth  to  meet  his  foes ; 

And  he  taketh  the  reins  of  Greyfell,  nor  yet  will  back  him  there. 

But  afoot  through  the  cold  slaked  ashes  of  yester-eve  doth  fare. 

With  his  eyes  cast  down  to  the  earth ;  till  he  heareth  the  wind,  and  a  cry, 

And  raiseth  a  face  brow-knitted  and  beholdeth  men  anigh, 

And  beholdeth  Hogni  the  King  set  grey  on  his  coal-black  steed. 

And  beholdeth  the  image  of  Sigurd,  the  King  in  the  golden  weed : 

Then  he  stayeth  and  stareth  astonished  and  setteth  his  hand  to  his  sword ; 

Till  Hogni  cries  from  his  saddle,  and  his  word  is  a  kindly  word : 

*'  Hail,  brother,  and  King  of  the  people !  hail,  helper  of  my  kin ! 
Again  from  the  death  and  the  trouble  great  gifts  hast  thou  set  thee  to  win 
For  thy  friends  and  the  Niblung  children,and  hast  crowned  thine  earthly  fame, 
And  increased  thine  exceeding  glory  and  the  sound  of  thy  \ovhd  name." 

Nought  Sigurd  spake  in  answer  but  looked  straight  forth  with  a  frown. 
And  stretched  out  his  hand  to  Gunnar,  as  one  that  claimeth  his  own. 
Then  no  word  speaketh  Gunnar,  but  taketh  his  hand  in  his  hand, 
And  they  look  in  the  eyes  of  each  other,  and  a  while  in  the  desert  they  stand 
Till  the  might  of  Grimhild  prevaileth,  and  the  twain  are  as  yester-morn ; 


220  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  sad  was  the  golden  Sigurd,  though  his  eyes  knew  nought  of  scorn : 
And  he  spake : 

"  It  is  finished,  O  Gunnar !  and  I  will  that  our  brotherhood 
May  endure  through  the  good  and  the  evil  as  it  sprang  in  the  days  of  the 
But  I  bid  thee  look  to  the  ending,  that  the  deed  I  did  yest'reve         [good  • 
Bear  nought  for  me  to  repent  of,  for  thine  heart  of  hearts  to  grieve. 
Thou  art  troth-plight,  O  King  of  the  Niblungs,  to  Brynhild  Queen  of  the  earth, 
She  hath  sworn  thine  heart  to  cherish  and  increase  thy  worth  with  her  worth : 
She  shall  come  to  the  house  of  Gunnar  ere  ten  days  are  past  and  o'er ; 
And  thenceforth  the  life  of  Brynhild  shall  part  from  thy  life  no  more, 
Till  the  doom  of  our  kind  shall  speed  you,  and  Odin  and  Freyia  shall  call, 
And  ye  bide  the  Day  of  the  Battle,  and  the  uttermost  changing  of  all." 

The  praise  and  thanks  they  gave  him  !  the  words  of  love  they  spake ! 
The  tale  that  the  world  should  hear  of,  deeds  done  for  Sigurd's  sake ! 
They  were  lovely  might  you  hear  them  :  but  they  lack ;  for  in  very  deed 
Their  sound  was  clean  forgotten  in  the  day  of  Sigurd's  need. 

But  as  yet  are  those  King-folk  lovely,  and  no  guile  of  heart  they  Know, 

And,  in  troth  and  love  rejoicing,  by  Sigurd's  side  they  go  : 

O'er  heath  and  holt  they  hie  them,  o'er  hill  and  dale  they  ride, 

Till  they  come  to  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  war-gate  of  their  pride  j 

And  there  is  Grimhild  the  wise-wife,  and  she  sits  and  spins  in  the  hail. 

"Rejoice,  O  mother,"  saith  Gunnar,  "for  thy  guest  hath  holpen  all 
And  this  eve  shall  thy  sons  be  merry :  but  ere  ten  days  are  o'er 
Here  cometh  the  Maid,  and  the  Queen,  the  Wise,  and  the  Chooser  of.  war; 
So  wrought  is  the  will  of  the  Niblungs  and  their  blossoming  boughs  inc/^^e, 
And  joyous  strife  shall  we  dwell  in,  and  merry  days  of  peace." 

So  that  night  in  the  hall  of  the  ancient  they  hold  high-tide  again, 
And  the  Gods  on  the  Southland  hangings  smile  out  full  fair  and  fain, 
And  the  song  goes  up  of  Sigurd,  and  the  praise  of  his  fame  fulfilled, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  221 

But  his  speech  in  the  dead  sleep  lieth,  and  the  words  of  his  wisdom  are  chilled: 
And  men  say,  the  King  is  careful,  for  he  thinks  of  the  people's  weal. 
And  his  heart  is  afraid  for  our  trouble,  lest  the  Gods  our  joyance  steal. 

But  that  night,  when  the  feast  was  over,  to  Gudrun  Sigurd  came. 

And  she  noted  the  ring  on  his  finger,  and  she  knew  it  was  nowise  the  same 

As  the  ring  he  was  wont  to  carry ;  so  she  bade  him  tell  thereof : 

Then  he  turned  unto  her  kindly,  and  his  words  were  words  of  love ; 

Nor  his  life  nor  his  death  he  heeded,  but  told  her  last  night's  tale : 

Yea  he  drew  forth  the  sword  for  his  slaying,  and  whetted  the  edges  of  bale ; 

For  he  took  that  Gold  of  Andvari,  that  Curse  of  the  uttermost  land, 

And  he  spake  as  a  king  that  loveth,  and  set  it  on  her  hand ; 

But  her  heart  was  exceeding  joyous,  as  he  kissed  her  sweet  and  soft. 

And  bade  her  bear  it  for  ever,  that  she  might  remember  him  oft 

When  his  hand  from  the  world  was  departed  and  he  sat  in  Odin's  home. 

But  no  one  of  his  words  she  forgat  when  the  latter  days  were  come,  [above, 
When  the  earth  was  hard  for  her  footsteps,  and  the  heavens  were  darkling 
And  but  e'en  as  a  tale  that  is  told  were  waxen  the  years  of  her  love. 
Yea  thereof,  from  the  Gold  of  Andvari,  the  spark  of  the  waters  wan, 
Sprang  a  flame  of  bitter  trouble,  and  the  death  of  many  a  man. 
And  the  quenching  of  the  kindreds,  and  the  blood  of  the  broken  troth. 
And  the  Grievous  Need  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  Sorrow  of  Odin  the  Goth. 


How  Brynhild'  was  wedded  to  Gunnar  the  Niblung. 

So  wear  the  ten  days  over,  and  the  morrow-morn  is  come. 

And  the  light-foot  expectation  flits  through  the  Niblung  home, 

And  the  girded  hope  is  ready,  and  all  people  are  astir. 

When  the  voice  of  the  keen-eyed  watchman  from  the  topmost  tower  they  hear 

"  Look  forth  from  the  Burg,  O  Niblungs,  and  the  war-gate  of  renown  ! 

For  the  wind  is  up  in  the  morning,  and  the  may-blooms  fall  adown, 


222  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  the  sun  on  the  earth  is  shining,  and  the  clouds  are  small  and  high, 
And  here  is  a  goodly  people  and  an  army  drawing  anigh." 

Then  horsed  are  the  sons  of  the  earl-folk,  and  their  robes  are  glittering-gay, 
And  they  ride  o'er  the  bridge  of  the  river  adown  the  dusty  way, 
Till  they  come  on  a  lovely  people,  and  the  maids  of  war  they  meet, 
Whose  cloaks  are  blue  and  broidered,  and  their  girded  linen  sweet ; 
And  they  ride  on  the  roan  and  the  grey,  and  the  dapple-grey  and  the  red. 
And  many  a  bloom  of  the  may-tide  on  their  crispy  locks  is  shed : 
Fair,  young  are  the  sons  of  the  earl-folk,  and  they  laugh  for  love  and  glee, 
As  the  lovely-wristed  maidens  on  the  summer  ways  they  see. 

But  lo,  mid  the  sweet-faced  fellows  there  cometh  a  golden  wain, 
Like  the  wain  of  the  sea  be-shielded  with  the  signs  of  the  war-god's  gam : 
Snow-white  are  its  harnessed  yoke-beasts,  and  its  bench-cloths  are  of  blue 
Inwrought  with  the  written  wonders  that  ancient  women  knew  : 
But  nought  therein  there  sitteth  save  a  crowned  queen  alone, 
Swan-white  on  the  dark-blue  bench-cloths  and  the  carven  ivory  throne ; 
Abashed  are  sons  of  the  earl-folk  of  their  laughter  and  their  glee, 
When  the  glory  of  Queen  Brynhild  on  the  summer  ways  they  see. 

But  they  hear  the  voice  of  the  woman,  and  her  speech  is  soft  and  kind : 

"  Are  ye  the  sons  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  folk  I  came  to  find, 

O  young  men  fair  and  lovely  ?     So  may  your  days  be  long. 

And  grow  in  gain  and  glory,  and  fail  of  grief  and  wrong !  " 

Then  they  hailed  her  sweet  and  goodly,  and  back  again  they  rode 

By  the  bridge  o'er  the  rushing  river  to  the  gate  of  their  abode ; 

And  high  aloft,  half-hearkened,  rang  the  joyance  of  the  horn. 

And  the  cry  of  the  Ancient  People  from  their  walls  of  war  was  borne 

O'er  the  tilth  of  the  plain,  and  the  meadows,  and  the  sheep-fed  slopes  that  lead 

From  the  God-built  wall  of  the  mountains  to  the  blossoms  of  the  mead. 

Then  up  in  the  wain  stood  Brynhild,  and  her  voice  was  sweet  as  she  said : 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  223 

'*  Is  this  the  house  of  Gunnar,  and  the  man  I  swore  to  wed  ? " 

But  she  hearkened  the  cry  from  the  gateway  and  the  hollow  of  the  door  : 
"  Yea  this  is  the  dwelling  of  Gunnar,  and  the  house  of  the  God  of  War  : 
There  is  none  of  the  world  so  mighty,  be  he  outland  King  or  Goth, 
Save  Sigurd  the  mighty  Volsung  and  the  brother  of  his  troth." 

Then  spake  Brynhild  and  said  :  "  Lo,  a  house  of  ancient  Kings, 
Wrought  for  great  deeds'  fulfillment,  and  the  birth  of  noble  things ! 
Be  the  bloom  of  the  earth  upon  it,  and  the  hope  of  the  heavens  above  I 
May  peace  and  joy  abide  there,  and  the  full  content  of  love  ! 
And  when  our  days  are  done  with,  and  we  lie  alow  in  rest, 
May  its  lords  returning  homeward  still  deem  they  see  the  best !" 

She  spake  with  voice  unfaltering,  and  the  golden  wain  moved  on. 

And  all  men  deemed  who  heard  her  that  great  gifts  their  home  had  won. 

So  she  passed  through  the  dusk  of  the  doorway,  and  the  cave  of  the  war-fain 
Wherein  the  echoing  horse-hoofs  as  the  sound  of  swords  awoke,  [folk, 

And  the  whispering  wind  of  the  may-tide  from  the  cloudy  wall  smote  back, 
And  cried  in  the  crown  of  the  roof-arch  of  battle  and  the  wrack ; 
And  the  voice  of  maidens  sounded  as  kings'  cries  in  the  day  of  the  wrath, 
When  the  flame  is  on  the  threshold  and  the  war-shields  strew  the  path. 

So  fair  in  the  sun  of  the  forecourt  doth  Brynhild's  wain  shine  bright, 

And  the  huge  hall  riseth  before  her,  and  the  ernes  cry  out  from  its  height, 

And  there  by  the  door  of  the  Niblungs,  she  sees  huge  warriors  stand, 

Dark-clad,  by  the  shoulders  greater  than  the  best  of  any  land, 

And  she  knoweth  the  chiefs  of  the  Niblungs,  the  dreaded  dukes  of  war: 

But  one  in  cloudy  raiment  stands  a  very  midst  the  door. 

And  ruddy  and  bright  is  his  visage,  and  his  black  locks  wave  in  the  wind, 

And  she  knoweth  the  King  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  man  she  came  to  find : 

Then  nought  she  lingered  nor  loitered,  but  stepped  to  the  earth  adown 


224  THE   STORY   OF   SIGUK.D   THE  VOLSUNG. 

With  right-hand  reached  to  the  War-God,  the  wearer  of  the  crown , 
A.nd  she  said : 

"  I  behold  thee,  Gunnar,  the  King  of  War  that  rode 
Through  the  waves  of  the  Flickering  Fire  to  the  door  of  mine  abode, 
To  lie  by  my  side  in  the  even,  and  waken  in  the  morn ; 
And  for  this  I  needs  must  deem  thee  the  best  of  all  men  born. 
The  highest  hearted,  the  greatest,  the  staunchest  of  thy  love : 
And  that  such  the  world  yet  holdeth,  my  heart  is  fain  thereof : 
And  for  thee  I  deem  was  I  fashioned,  and  for  thee  the  oath  I  swore 
In  the  days  of  my  glory  and  wisdom,  ere  the  days  of  youth  were  o'er. 
May  the  bloom  of  the  earth  be  upon  thee,  and  the  hope  of  the  heavens  above. 
May  the  blessing  of  days  be  upon  thee,  and  the  full  content  of  love ! 
Mayst  thou  see  our  children's  children,  and  the  crowned  kin  of  kings ! 
May  no  hope  from  thine  eyes  be  hidden  of  the  day  of  better  things  ! 
May  the  fire  ne'er  stay  thy  glory,  nor  the  ocean-flood  thy  fame  ! 
Through  ages  of  all  ages  may  the  wide  world  praise  thy  name ! 
Yea  oft  may  the  word  be  spoken  when  low  we  lie  at  rest ; 
*  It  befell  in  the  days  of  Gunnar,  the  happiest  and  the  best !  * 
All  this  may  the  high  Gods  give  thee,  and  thereto  a  gift  I  give, 
The  body  of  Queen  Brynhild  so  long  as  both  we  live." 

With  unmoved  face,  unfaltering,  the  blessing-words  she  said, 
But  the  joy  sprang  up  in  Gunnar  and  increased  his  goodlihead, 
And  he  cast  his  arms  about  her  and  kissed  her  on  the  mouth, 
And  he  said : 

"  The  gift  is  greater  than  all  treasure  of  the  south : 
As  glad  as  my  heart  this  moment,  so  glad  may  be  thy  life. 
And  the  world  be  never  weary  of  the  joy  of  Gunnar's  wife  ! " 

She  spake  no  word,  and  smiled  not,  but  she  held  his  hand  henceforth. 
And  he  said  :  "  Now  take  the  greetings  of  my  men,  the  most  of  worth." 

Then  she  turned  her  face  to  the  war-dukes,  and  hearkened  to  their  praise, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  225 

And  she  spake  in  a  few  words  sweetly,  and  blessed  their  coming  days. 
Then  again  spake  Gunnar  and  said  :  "  Lo,  Hogni  my  brother  is  this ; 
But  Guttorm  is  far  on  the  East-seas,  and  seeketh  the  warrior's  bliss ; 
A  third  there  is  of  my  brethren,  and  my  house  holds  none  so  great; 
In  the  hall  by  the  side  of  my  sister  thy  face  doth  he  await." 

Then  Brynhild  turned  unto  Hogni,  and  he  greeted  her  fair  and  well, 
And  she  prayed  all  blessings  upon  him,  and  a  tale  that  the  world  should  tell : 
Then  again  she  spake  unto  Gunnar :  "  I  had  deemed  ye  had  been  but  three, 
Who  sprang  from  the  loins  of  Giuki ;  is  this  fourth  akin  unto  thee, 
This  hall-abider  the  mighty  ? " 

He  said  :  "  He  is  nought  of  our  blood, 
But  the  Gods  have  sent  him  to  usward  to  work  us  measureless  good  : 
It  is  even  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  the  best  man  ever  born. 
The  man  that  the  Gods  withstand  not,  my  friend,  and  my  brother  sworn." 

She  heard  the  name,  and  she  changed  not,  but  her  feet  went  forth  as  he  led, 

And  under  the  cloudy  roof-tree  Queen  Brynhild  bowed  her  head. 

Then,  were  there  a  man  so  ancient  as  had  lived  beyond  his  peers 

On  the  earth,  that  beareth  all  things,  a  twice-told  tale  of  years. 

He  had  heard  no  sound  so  mighty  as  the  shout  that  shook  the  wall 

When  Brynhild's  feet  unhearkened  first  trod  the  Niblung  hall. 

No  whit  the  clamour  stirred  her ;  but  her  godlike  eyes  she  raised 

And  betwixt  the  hedge  of  the  earl-folk  on  the  golden  high-seat  gazed, 

And  the  man  that  sat  by  Gudrun:  but  e'en  as  the  rainless  cloud 

Ere  the  first  of  the  tempest  ariseth  the  latter  sun  doth  shroud, 

And  men  look  round  and  shudder,  so  Grimhild  came  between 

The  silent  golden  Sigurd  and  the  eyes  of  the  mighty  Queen, 

And  again  heard  Brynhild  greeting,  and  again  she  spake  and  said : 

"  O  Mother  of  the  Niblungs,  such  hap  be  on  thine  head. 

As  thy  love  for  me,  the  stranger,  was  past  the  pain  of  words  ! 

Mayst  thou  see  thy  son's  sons  glorious  in  the  meeting  of  the  swords  ! 

15 


226  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Mayst  thou  sleep  and  doubt  thee  nothing  of  the  fortunes  of  thy  race  1 
Mayst  thou  hear  folk  call  yon  high-seat  the  earth's  most  happy  place ! " 

Then  the  Wise-wife  hushed  before  her,  and  a  little  fell  aside, 

And  nought  from  the  eyes  of  Brynhild  the  high-seat  now  did  hide ; 

And  the  face  so  long  desired,  unchanged  from  time  agone, 

In  the  house  of  the  Cloudy  People  from  the  Niblung  high-seat  shone : 

She  stood  with  her  hand  in  Gunnar's,  and  all  about  and  around 

Were  the  unfamiliar  faces,  and  the  folk  that  day  had  found ; 

But  her  heart  ran  back  through  the  years,  and  yet  her  lips  did  move 

With  the  words  she  spake  on  Hindfell,  when  they  plighted  troth  of  love. 

Lo,  Sigurd  fair  on  the  high-seat  by  the  white-armed  Gudrun's  side, 

In  the  midst  of  the  Cloudy  People,  in  the  dwelling  of  their  pride ! 

His  face  is  exceeding  glorious  and  awful  to  behold  ; 

For  of  all  his  sorrow  he  knoweth  and  his  hope  smit  dead  and  cold : 

The  will  of  the  Norns  is  accomplished,  and,  lo,  they  wend  on  their  ways, 

And  leave  the  mighty  Sigurd  to  deal  with  the  latter  days : 

The  Gods  look  down  from  heaven,  and  the  lonely  King  they  see. 

And  sorrow  over  his  sorrow,  and  rejoice  in  his  majesty. 

For  the  will  of  the  Norns  is  accomplished,  and  outworn  is  Grimhild's  spell, 

And  nought  now  shall  blind  or  help  him,  and  the  tale  shall  be  to  tell : 

He  hath  seen  the  face  of  Brynhild,  and  he  knows  why  she  hath  come. 

And  that  his  is  the  hand  that  hath  drawn  her  to  the  Cloudy  People's  home  • 

He  knows  of  the  net  of  the  days,  and  the  deeds  that  the  Gods  have  bid. 

And  no  whit  of  the  sorrow  that  shall  be  from  his  wakened  soul  is  hid : 

And  his  glory  his  heart  restraineth,  and  restraineth  the  hand  of  the  strong 

From  the  hope  of  the  fools  of  desire  and  the  wrong  that  amendeth  wrong ; 

And  he  seeth  the  ways  of  the  burden  till  the  last^of  the  uttermost  end. 

But  for  all  the  measureless  anguish,  and  the  woe  that  nought  may  amend, 

His  heart  speeds  back  to  Hindfell,  and  the  dawn  of  the  wakening  day; 

And  the  hours  betwixt  are  as  nothing,  and  their  deeds  are  fallen  away 

As  he  looks  on  the  face  of  Brynhild ;  and  nought  is  the  Niblung  folk, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  227 

But  they  two  are  again  together,  and  he  speaketh  the  words  he  spoke, 
When  he  swore  the  love  that  endureth,  and  the  truth  that  knoweth  not 

change ; 
And  Brynhild's  face  drew  near  him  with  eyes  grown  stern  and  strange. 
—  Lo,  such  is  the  high  Gods'  sorrow,  and  men  know  nought  thereof. 
Who  cry  out  o'er  their  undoing,  and  wail  o'er  broken  love. 
Now  she  stands  on  the  floor  of  the  high-seat,  and  for  e'en  so  little  a  space 
As  men  may  note  delaying,  she  looketh  on  Sigurd's  face. 
Ere  she  saith  : 

"  I  have  greeted  many  in  the  Niblungs'  house  today, 
And  for  thee  is  the  last  of  my  greetings  ere  the  feast  shall  wear  away : 
Hail,  Sigurd,  son  of  the  Volsungs  !  hail  lord  of  Odin's  storm  ! 
Hail  rider  of  the  wasteland  and  slayer  of  the  Worm  ! 
If  aught  thy  soul  shall  desire  while  yet  thou  livest  on  earth, 
I  pray  that  thou  mayst  win  it,  nor  forget  its  might  and  worth." 

All  grief,  sharp  scorn,  sore  longing,  stark  death  in  her  voice  he  knew. 
But  gone  forth  is  the  doom  of  the  Norns,  and  what  shall  he  answer  thereto, 
While  the  death  that  amendeth  lingers  ?  and  they  twain  shall  dwell  for  awhile 
In  the  Niblung  house  together  by  the  hearth  that  forged  the  guile  j 
Yet  amid  the  good  and  the  guileless,  and  the  love  that  thought  no  wrong, 
Shall  they  fashion  the  deeds  to  remember,  and  the  fame  that  endureth  for 

long: 
And  oft  shall  he  look  on  Brynhild,  and  oft  her  words  shall  he  hear, 
And  no  hope  and  no  beseeching  in  his  inmost  heart  shall  stir. 
So  he  spake  as  a  King  of  the  people  in  whom  all  fear  is  dead. 
And  his  anguish  no  man  noted,  as  the  greeting-words  he  said  : 

"  Hail,  fairest  of  all  things  fashioned  !  hail  thou  desire  of  eyes  ! 
Hail  chooser  of  the  mightiest,  and  teacher  of  the  wise  ! 
Hail  wife  of  my  brother  Gunnar !  in  might  may  thy  days  endure. 
And  in  peace  without  a  trouble  that  the  world's  weal  may  be  sure  !  " 


228  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

She  heard  and  turned  unto  Gunnar  as  a  queen  that  seeketh  her  place, 
But  to  Gudrun  she  gave  no  greeting,  nor  beheld  the  Niblung's  face. 
Then  up  stood  the  wife  of  Sigurd  and  strove  with  the  greeting-word, 
But  the  cold  fear  rose  in  her  heart,  and  the  hate  within  her  stirred. 
And  the  greeting  died  on  her  lips,  and  she  gazed  for  a  moment  or  twain 
On  the  lovely  face  of  Brynhild,  and  so  sat  in  the  high-seat  again, 
And  turned  to  her  lord  beside  her  with  many  a  word  of  love. 

But  the  song  sprang  up  in  the  hall,  and  the  eagles  cried  from  above 
And  forth  to  the  freshness  of  May  went  the  joyance  of  the  feast : 
And  Sigurd  sat  with  the  Niblungs,  and  gave  ear  to  most  and  to  least, 
And  showed  no  sign  to  the  people  of  the  grief  that  on  him  lay ; 
Nor  seemeth  he  worser  to  any  than  he  was  on  the  yesterday. 


Of  the  Contention  betwixt  the  Queens. 

So  there  are  all  these  abiding  in  the  Burg  of  the  ancient  folk 

Mid  the  troth-plight  sworn  and  broken,  and  the  oaths  of  the  earthly  yoke. 

Then  Guttorm  comes  from  his  sea-fare,  and  is  waxen  fierce  and  strong, 

A  man  in  the  wars  delighting,  blind-eyed  through  right  and  wrong : 

Still  Sigurd  rides  with  the  Brethren,  as  oft  in  the  other  days. 

And  never  a  whit  abateth  the  sound  of  the  people's  praise ; 

They  drink  in  the  hall  together,  they  doom  in  the  people's  strife. 

And  do  every  deed  of  the  King-folk,  that  the  world  may  rejoice  in  their  life. 

There  now  is  Brynhild  abiding  as  a  Queen  in  the  house  of  the  Kings, 
And  hither  and  thither  she  wendeth  through  the  day  of  queenly  things ; 
And  no  man  knoweth  her  sorrow ;  though  whiles  is  the  Niblung  bed 
Too  hot  and  weary  a  dwelling  for  the  temples  of  her  head. 
And  she  wends,  as  her  wont  was  aforetime,  when  the  moon  is  riding  high^ 
And  the  night  on  the  earth  is  deepest ;  and  she  deemeth  it  good  to  lie 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  229 

In  the  trench  of  the  windy  mountains,  and  the  track  of  the  wandering  sheep, 
While  soft  in  the  arms  of  Sigurd  Queen  Gudrun  lieth  asleep : 
There  she  cries  on  the  lovely  Sigurd,  and  she  cries  on  the  love  and  the  oath, 
And  she  cries  on  the  change  and  the  vengeance,  and  the  death  to  deliver  them 

both. 
But  her  crying  none  shall  hearken,  and  her  sorrow  nought  shall  know. 
Save  the  heart  of  the  golden  Sigurd,  and  the  man  fast  bound  in  woe : 
So  she  wendeth  her  back  in  the  dawning  toward  the  deeds  and  the  dwellings 

of  men, 
And  she  sits  in  the  Niblung  high-seat,  and  is  fair  and  queenly  again. 

Close  now  is  her  converse  with  Gudrun,  and  sore  therein  she  strives 

Lest  the  barren  stark  contention  should  mingle  in  their  lives  ; 

And  she  humbles  her  oft  before  her,  as  before  the  Queen  of  the  earth, 

The  mistress,  the  overcomer,  the  winner  of  all  that  is  worth : 

And  Gudrun  beareth  it  all,  and  deemeth  it  little  enow 

Though  the  wife  of  Sigurd  be  worshipped  :  and  the  scorn  in  her  heart  doth 

Of  every  soul  save  Sigurd  :  for  that  tale  of  the  night  she  bears  [grow. 

Scarce  hid  'twixt  the  lips  and  the  bosom  j  and  with  evil  eye  she  hears 

Songs  sung  of  the  deeds  of  Gunnar,  and  the  rider  of  the  fire, 

Who  mocked  at  the  bane  of  King-folk  to  win  his  heart's  desire : 

But  Sigurd's  will  constraineth,  and  with  seeming  words  of  peace 

She  deals  with  the  converse  of  Brynhild,  and  the  days  her  load  increase. 

Men  tell  how  the  heart-wise  Hogni  grew  wiser  day  by  day ; 

He  knows  of  the  craft  of  Grimhild,  and  how  she  looketh  to  sway 

The  very  council  of  God-home  and  the  Norns'  unchanging  mitid ; 

And  he  saith  that  well-learned  is  his  mother,  but  that  e'en  her  feet  are  blind 

Down  the  path  that  she  cannot  escape  from  :  nay  oft  is  she  nothing,  he  saith, 

Save  a  staff  for  the  foredoomed  staying,  and  a  sword  for  the  ordered  death ; 

And  that  he  will  be  wiser  than  this,  nor  thrust  his  desire  aside, 

Nor  smother  the  flame  of  his  hatred ;  but  the  steed  of  the  Norns  will  he  ride, 

Till  he  see  great  marvels  and  wonders,  and  leave  great  tales  to  be  told  • 


230  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  measureless  pride  is  in  him,  a  stern  heart,  stubborn  and  cold. 

But  of  Gunnar  the  Niblung  they  say  it,  that  the  bloom  of  his  youth  is  o'ei 

And  many  are  manhood's  troubles,  and  they  burden  him  oft  and  sore. 

He  dwells  with  Brynhild  his  wife,  with  Grimhild  his  mother  he  dwells. 

And  noble  things  of  his  greatness,  of  his  joy,  the  rumour  tells ; 

Yet  oft  and  oft  of  an  even  he  thinks  of  that  tale  of  the  night. 

And  the  shame  springs  fresh  in  his  heart  at  his  brother  Sigurd's  might ; 

And  the  wonder  riseth  within  him,  what  deed  did  Sigurd  there, 

What  gift  to  the  King  hath  he  given :  and  he  looks  on  Brynhild  the  fair, 

The  fair  face  never  smiling,  and  the  eyes  that  know  no  change, 

And  he  deems  in  the  bed  of  the  Niblungs  she  is  but  cold  and  strange; 

And  the  Lie  is  laid  between  them,  as  the  sword  lay  while  agone. 

He  hearkens  to  Grimhild  moreover,  and  he  deems  she  is  driving  him  on, 

He  knoweth  not  whither  nor  wherefore  :   but  she  tells  of  the  measureless 

Gold, 
And  the  Flame  of  the  uttermost  Waters,  and  the  Hoard  of  the  kings  of  old : 
And  she  tells  of  kings'  supplanters,  and  the  leaders  of  the  war, 
Who  take  the  crown  of  song-craft,  and  the  tale  when  all  is  o'er : 
She  tells  of  kings'  supplanters,  and  saith :  Perchance  'twere  well, 
Might  some  tongue  of  the  wise  of  the  earth  of  those  deeds  of  the  night-tide 

tell: 
She  tells  of  kings'  supplanters :  I  am  wise,  and  the  wise  I  know. 
And  for  nought  is  the  sword-edge  whetted,  save  the  smiting  of  the  blow : 
Old  friends  are  last  to  sever,  and  twain  are  strong  indeed. 
When  one  the  King's  shame  knoweth,  and  the  other  knoweth  his  need. 

So  Gunnar  hearkens  and  hearkens,  and  he  saith,  It  is  idle  and  worse : 
If  the  oath  of  my  brother  be  broken,  let  the  earth  then  see  to  the  curse ! 
But  again  he  hearkens  and  hearkens,  and  when  none  may  hear  his  thought 
He  saith  in  the  silent  night-tide :  Shall  my  brother  bring  me  to  nought  ? 
Must  my  stroke  be  a  stroke  of  the  guilty,  though  on  sackless  folk  it  fall  ? 
Shall  a  king  sit  joy-forsaken  mid  the  riches  of  his  hall .? 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  231 

And  measureless  pride  is  in  Gunnar,  and  it  blends  with  doubt  and  shame, 
And  the  unseen  blossom  is  envy  and  desire  without  a  name. 

But  fair-faced,  calm  as  a  God  who  hath  none  to  call  his  foes, 

Betwixt  the  Kings  and  the  people  the  golden  Sigurd  goes ; 

No  knowledge  of  man  he  lacketh,  and  the  lore  he  gained  of  old 

From  the  ancient  heart  of  the  Serpent  and  the  Wallower  on  the  Gold 

Springs  fresh  in  the  soul  of  Sigurd ;  the  heart  of  Hogni  he  sees, 

And  the  heart  of  his  brother  Gunnar,  and  he  grieveth  sore  for  these. 

But  he  seeth  the  heart  of  Brynhild,  and  knoweth  her  lonely  cry 

When  the  waste  is  all  about  her,  and  none  but  the  Gods  are  anigh : 

And  he  knoweth  her  tale  of  the  night-tide,  when  desire,  that  day  doth  dull, 

Is  stirred  by  hope  undying,  and  fills  her  bosom  full 

Of  the  sighs  she  may  not  utter,  and  the  prayers  that  none  may  heed ; 

Though  the  Gods  were  once  so  mighty  the  smiling  world  to  speed. 

And  he  knows  of  the  day  of  her  burden,  and  the  measure  of  her  toil. 

And  the  peerless  pride  of  her  heart,  and  her  scorn  of  the  fall  and  the  foil. 

And  the  shadowy  wings  of  the  Lie,  that  with  hand  unwitting  he  led 

To  the  Burg  of  the  ancient  people,  brood  over  board  and  bed ; 

And  the  hand  of  the  hero  faileth,  and  seared  is  the  sight  of  the  wise, 

And  good  is  at  one  with  evil  till  the  new-born  death  shall  arise. 

In  the  hall  sitteth  Sigurd  by  Brynhild,  in  the  council  of  the  Kings, 
And  he  hearkeneth  her  spoken  wisdom,  and  her  word  of  lovely  things : 
In  the  field  they  meet,  and  the  wild-wood,  on  the  acre  and  the  heath ; 
And  scarce  may  he  tell  if  the  meeting  be  worse  than  the  coward's  death. 
Or  better  than  life  of  the  righteous :  but  his  love  is  a  flaming  fire, 
That  hath  burnt  up  all  before  it  of  the  things  that  feed  desire. 

The  heart  of  Gudrun  he  seeth,  her  heart  of  burning  love, 
That  knoweth  of  nought  but  Sigurd  on  the  earth,  in  the  heavens  above, 
Save  the  foes  that  encompass  his  life,  and  the  woman  that  wasteth  away 
'Neath  the  toil  of  a  love  like  her  love,  and  the  unrewarded  day  : 


232  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

For  hate  her  eyes  hath  quickened,  and  no  more  is  Gudrun  blind 
And  sure,  though  dim  it  may  be,  she  seeth  the  days  behind  : 
And  the  shadowy  wings  of  the  Lie,  that  the  hand  unwitting  led 
To  the  love  and  the  heart  of  Gudrun,  brood  over  board  and  bed ; 
And  for  all  the  hand  of  the  hero  and  the  foresight  of  the  wise. 
From  the  heart  of  a  loving  woman  shall  the  death  of  men  arise. 

It  was  most  in  these  latter  days  that  his  fame  went  far  abroad, 

The  helper,  the  overcomer,  the  righteous  sundering  sword ; 

The  loveliest  King  of  the  King-folk,  the  man  of  sweetest  speech, 

Whose  ear  is  dull  to  no  man  that  his  helping  shall  beseech ; 

The  eye-bright  seer  of  all  things,  that  wasteth  every  wrong. 

The  straightener  of  the  crooked,  the  hammer  of  the  strong : 

Lo,  such  was  the  Son  of  Sigmund  in  the  days  whereof  I  tell. 

The  dread  of  the  doom  and  the  battle ;  and  all  children  loved  him  well. 

Now  it  happed  on  a  summer  season  mid  the  blossom  of  the  year. 

When  the  clouds  were  high  and  little,  and  the  sun  exceeding  clear, 

That  Queen  Brynhild  arose  in  the  morning,  and  longed  for  the  eddying  pool. 

And  the  Water  of  the  Niblungs  her  summer  sleep  to  cool : 

So  she  set  her  face  to  the  river,  where  the  hawthorn  and  the  rose 

Hide  the  face  of  the  sunlit  water  from  the  yellow-blossomed  close 

And  the  house-built  Burg  of  the  Niblungs ;  for  there  by  a  grassy  strand 

The  shallow  water  floweth  o'er  white  and  stoneless  sand 

And  deepeneth  up  and  outward ;  and  the  bank  on  the  further  side 

Goes  high  and  shear  and  rocky  the  water's  face  to  hide 

From  the  plain  and  the  horse-fed  meadow :  there  the  wives  of  the  Niblungs  oft 

Would  play  in  the  wide-spread  water  when  the  summer  days  were  soft ; 

And  thither  now  goes  Brynhild,  and  the  flowery  screen  doth  pass. 

When  lo,  fair  linen  raiment  falls  before  her  on  the  grass. 

And  she  looks,  and  there  is  Gudrun,  the  white-armed  Niblung  child, 

All  bare  for  the  sunny  river  and  the  water  undefiled. 

Round  she  turned  with  her  face  yet  dreamy  with  the  love  of  yesternight, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  233 

Till  the  flush  of  anger  changed  it :  but  Brynhild's  face  grew  white 
Though  soft  she  spake  and  queenly : 

"  Hail  sister  of  my  lord ! 
Thou  art  fair  in  the  summer  morning  'twixt  the  river  and  the  sward ! " 

Then  she  disarrayed  her  shoulders  and  cast  her  golden  girtl. , 

And  she  said:  "  Thou  art  sister  of  Gunnar,  and  the  kin  of  the  best  of  the  earth; 

So  shalt  thou  go  before  me  to  meet  the  water  cold." 

Then,  smiling  nowise  kindly,  doth  Gudrun  her  behold. 
And  she  saith :  "  Thou  art  wrong.  Queen  Brynhild,  to  give  the  place  to  me, 
For  she  that  is  wife  of  the  greatest  more  than  sister-kin  shall  be. 
—  Nay,  if  here  were  the  sister  of  Sigurd  ne'er  before  me  should  she  go, 
Though  sister  were  she  surely  of  the  best  that  the  earth-folk  know : 
Yet  I  linger  not,  since  thou  biddest,  for  the  courteous  of  women  thou  art ; 
And  the  love  of  the  night  and  the  morning  is  heavy  at  my  heart ; 
For  the  best  of  the  world  was  beside  me,  while  thou  layest  with  Gunnar  the 

[King." 
She  laughs  and  leaps,  and  about  her  the  glittering  waters  spring : 
But  Brynhild  laugheth  in  answer,  and  her  face  is  white  and  wan 
As  swift  she  taketh  the  water ;  and  the  bed-gear  of  the  swan 
Wreathes  long  folds  round  about  her  as  she  wadeth  straight  and  swift 
Where  the  white-scaled  slender  fishes  make  head  against  the  drift : 
Then  she  turned  to  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  who  stood  far  down  the  stream 
In  the  lapping  of  the  west-wind  and  the  rippling  shallows'  gleam, 
And  her  laugh  went  down  the  waters,  as  the  war-horn  on  the  wind, 
When  the  Kings  of  war  are  seeking,  and  their  foes  are  fain  to  find 

But  Gudrun  cried  upon  her,  and  said :  "  Why  wadest  thou  so 

In  the  deeps  and  the  upper  waters,  and  wilt  leave  me  here  below  ? " 

Then  e'en  as  one  transfigured  loud  Brynhild  cried,  and  said : 
" So  oft  shall  it  be  between  us  at  hall  and  board  and  bed; 


234  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

E'en  so  in  Freyia's  garden  shall  the  lilies  cover  me, 

While  thou  on  the  barren  footways,  thy  gown-hem  folk  shall  see : 

E'en  so  shall  the  gold  cloths  lap  me,  when  we  sit  in  Odin's  hall. 

While  thou  shiverest,  little  hidden,  by  thy  lord,  the  Helper's  thrall, 

By  the  serving-man  of  Gunnar,  who  all  his  bidding  doth, 

And  waits  by  the  door  of  the  bower,  while  his  master  plighteth  the  troth : 

But  my  mate  is  the  King  of  the  King-folk  who  rode  the  Wavering  Fire, 

And  mocked  at  the  ruddy  death  to  win  his  heart's  desire. 

Lo  now,  it  is  meet  and  righteous  that  ye  of  the  happy  days 

Should  bow  the  heads  and  wonder  at  the  wedding  all  men  praise. 

O,  is  it  not  goodly  and  sweet  with  the  best  of  the  earth  to  dwell. 

And  the  man  that  all  shall  worship  when  the  tale  grows  old  to  tell ! 

For  the  woe  and  the  anguish  endure  not,  but  the  tale  and  the  fame  endure, 

And  as  wavering  wind  is  the  joyance,  but  the  Gods'  renown  shall  be  sure : 

It  is  well,  O  ye  troth-breakers !  there  was  found  a  man  to  ride 

Through  the  waves  of  my  Flickering  Fire  to  lie  by  Brynhild's  side." 

Then  no  word  answered  Gudrun  till  she  waded  up  the  stream 

And  stretched  forth  her  hand  to  Brynhild,  and  thereon  was  a  golden  gleam 

And  she  spake,  and  her  voice  was  but  little : 

"  Thou  mayest  know  by  this  token  and  sign 
If  the  best  of  the  kings  of  man-folk,  and  the  master  of  masters  is  thine." 

White  waxed  the  face  of  Brynhild  as  she  looked  on  the  glittering  thing : 
And  she  spake  :  "  By  all  thou  lovest,  whence  haddest  thou  the  ring  ? " 

Then  Gudrun  laughed  in  her  glory  the  face  of  the  Queen  to  see : 

"  Thinkst  thou  that  my  brother  Gunnar  gave  the  Dwarf -wrought  ring  to  me?'' 

Nought  spake  the  glorious  woman,  but  as  one  who  clutcheth  a  knife 
She  turned  on  the  mocking  Gudrun,  and  again  spake  Sigurd's  wife : 

"  I  had  the  ring,  O  Brynhild,  on  the  night  that  followed  the  morn, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  235 

When  the  semblance  of  Gunnar  left  thee  in  thy  golden  hall  forlorn : 

And  he,  the  giver  that  gave  it,  was  the  Helper's  war-got  thrall, 

And  the  babe  King  Elf  uplifted  to  the  war-dukes  in  the  hall ; 

And  he  rode  with  the  heart-wise  Regin,  and  rode  the  Glittering  Heath, 

And  gathered  the  Golden  Harvest  and  smote  the  Worm  to  the  death : 

And  he  rode  with  the  sons  of  the  Niblungs  till  the  words  of  men  must  fail 

To  tell  of  the  deeds  of  Sigurd  and  the  glory  of  his  tale : 

Yet  e'en  as  thou  sayest,  O  Brynhild,  the  bidding  of  Gunnar  he  did, 

For  he  cloaked  him  in  Gunnar's  semblance  and  his  shape  in  Gunnar's  hid  : — 

Thou  all-wise  Queen  of  the  Niblungs,  was  this  so  hard  a  part 

For  the  learned  in  the  lore  of  Regin,  who  ate  of  the  Serpent's  heart  ? 

—  Thus  he  wooed  the  bride  for  Gunnar,  and  for  Gunnar  rode  the  fire; 

And  he  held  thine  hand  for  Gunnar,  and  lay  by  thy  dead  desire. 

We  have  known  thee  for  long,  O  Brynhild,  and  great  is  thy  renown ; 

In  this  shalt  thou  joy  henceforward  and  nought  in  thy  wedding  crown." 

Now  is  Brynhild  wan  as  the  dead,  and  she  openeth  her  mouth  to  speak, 

But  no  word  cometh  outward :  then  the  green  bank  doth  she  seek. 

And  casteth  her  raiment  upon  her,  and  flees  o'er  the  meadow  fair. 

As  though  flames  were  burning  beneath  it,  and  red  gleeds  the  daisies  were  : 

But  fair  with  face  triumphant  from  the  water  Gudrun  goes. 

And  with  many  a  thought  of  Sigurd  the  heart  within  her  glows. 

And  yet  as  she  walked  the  meadow  a  fear  upon  her  came. 

What  deeds  are  the  deeds  of  women  in  their  anguish  and  their  shame ; 

And  many  a  heavy  warning  and  many  a  word  of  fate 

By  the  lips  of  Sigurd  spoken  she  remembereth  overlate ; 

Yet  e'en  to  the  heart  within  her  she  dissembleth  all  her  dread. 

Daylong  she  sat  in  her  bower  in  glee  and  goodlihead. 

But  when  the  day  was  departing  and  the  earl-folk  drank  in  the  hall 

She  went  alone  in  the  garden  by  the  nook  of  the  Niblung  wall ; 

There  she  thought  of  that  word  in  the  river,  and  of  how  it  were  better  unsaid, 

And  she  looked  with  kind  words  to  hide  it,  as  men  bury  their  battle-dead 


236  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

With  the  spice  and  the  sweet-smelling  raiment :  in  the  cool  of  the  eve  she 
And  murmured  her  speech  of  forgiveness  and  the  words  of  her  intent,    [went 
While  her  heart  was  happy  with  love :  then  she  lifted  up  her  face, 
And  lo,  there  was  Brynhild  the  Queen  hard  by  in  the  leafy  place ; 
Then  the  smile  from  her  bright  eyes  faded  and  a  flush  came  over  her  cheek 
And  she  said  :  "  What  dost  thou  Brynhild  ?  what  matter  dost  thou  seek  ?" 

But  the  word  of  Sigurd  smote  her,  and  she  spake  ere  the  answer  came  ; 
"  Hard  speech  was  between  us,  Brynhild,  and  words  of  evil  and  shame ; 
I  repent,  and  crave  thy  pardon :  wilt  thou  say  so  much  unto  me, 
That  the  Niblung  wives  may  be  merry,  as  great  queens  are  wont  to  be  ? " 

But  no  word  answered  Brynhild,  and  the  wife  of  Sigurd  spake : 

"  Lo,  I  humble  myself  before  thee  for  many  a  warrior's  sake, 

And  yet  is  thine  anger  heavy  —  well  then,  tell  all  thy  tale. 

And  the  grief  that  sickens  thine  heart,  that  a  kindly  word  may  avail." 

Then  spake  Brynhild  and  said :  "Thou  art  great  and  livest  in  bliss, 
And  the  noble  queens  and  the  happy  should  ask  better  tidings  than  this ; 
For  ugly  words  must  tell  it ;  thou  shouldst  scarce  know  what  they  mean  j 
Thou,  the  child  of  the  mighty  Niblungs,  thou,  Sigurd's  wedded  queen. 
It  is  good  to  be  kindly  and  soft  while  the  heart  hath  all  its  will." 

Said  the  Queen :  "  There  is  that  in  thy  word  that  the  joy  of  my  heart  would 
I  have  humbled  myself  before  thee,  and  what  further  shall  I  say  ?  "     [kill. 

Then  spake  Brynhild  the  Queen  :  "  I  spake  heavy  words  today ; 
And  thereof  do  I  repent  me ;  but  one  thing  I  beseech  thee  and  crave : 
That  thou  speak  but  a  word  in  thy  turn  my  life  and  my  soul  to  save : 
—  Yea  the  lives  of  many  warriors,  and  the  joy  of  the  Niblung  home, 
And  the  days  of  the  unborn  children,  and  the  health  of  the  days  to  come — 
Say  thou  it  was  Gunnar  thy  brother  that  gave  thee  the  Dwarf-lord's  ring. 
And  not  the  glorious  Sigurd,  the  peerless  lovely  King ; 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  237 

E'en  so  will  I  serve  thee  for  ever,  and  peace  on  this  house  shall  be, 

And  rest  ere  my  departing,  and  a  joyous  life  for  thee ; 

And  long  life  for  the  lovely  Sigurd,  and  a  glorious  tale  to  tell. 

O  speak,  thou  sister  of  Gunnar,  that  all  may  be  better  then  well ! " 

But  hard  grew  the  heart  of  Gudrun,  and  she  said :  "  Hast  thou  heard  the  tale 
That  the  wives  of  the  Niblungs  lie,  lest  the  joy  of  their  life-days  fail  ? 
Wilt  thou  threaten  the  house  of  the  Niblungs,  wilt  thou  threaten  my  love  and 

my  lord  ? 
—  It  was  Sigurd  that  lay  in  thy  bed  with  thee  and  the  edge  of  the  sword ; 
And  he  told  me  the  tale  of  the  night-tide,  and  the  bitterest  tidings  thereof, 
And  the  shame  of  my  brother  Gunnar,  how  his  glory  was  turned  to  a  scoff ; 
And  he  set  the  ring  on  my  finger  with  sweet  words  of  the  sweetest  of  men, 
And  no  more  from  me  shall  it  sunder  —  lo,  wilt  thou  behold  it  again  ? " 

And  her  hand  gleamed  white  in  the  even  with  the  ring  of  Andvari  thereon, 
The  thrice-cursed  burden  of  greed  and  the  grain  from  the  needy  won  ; 
Then  uprose  the  voice  of  Brynhild,  and  she  cried  to  the  towers  aloft : 

"  O  house  of  the  ancient  people,  I  blessed  thee  sweet  and  soft ; 
In  the  day  of  my  grief  I  blessed  thee,  when  my  life  seemed  evil  and  long , 
Look  down,  O  house  of  the  Niblungs,  on  the  hapless  Brynhild's  wrong  ! 
Lest  the  day  and  the  hour  be  coming  when  no  man  in  thy  courts  shall  be  left 
To  remember  the  woe  of  Brynhild,  and  the  joy  from  her  life-days  reft ; 
Lest  the  grey  wolf  howl  in  the  hall,  and  the  wood-king  roll  in  the  porch, 
And  the  moon  through  thy  broken  rafters  be  the  Niblungs'  feastful  torch." 

"  O  God-folk  hearken,"  cried  Gudrun,  "what  a  tale  there  is  to  tell !  [well ! " 
How  a  Queen  hath  cursed  her  people,  and  the  folk  that  hath  cherished  her 

"  O  Niblung  child,"  said  Brynhild,  "  what  bitterer  curse  may  be 

Than  the  curse  of  Grimhild  thy  mother,  and  the  womb  that  carried  thee  ? 

"  Ah  fool !  "  said  the  wife  of  Sigurd,  "  wilt  thou  curse  thy  very  friend  ? 


238  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  the  bitter  love  bewrays  thee,  and  thy  pride  that  nought  shall  end." 

"  Do  I  curse  the  accursed  ?  "  said  Brynhild,  "but  yet  the  day  shall  come, 
When  thy  word  shall  scarce  be  better  on  the  threshold  of  thine  home ; 
When  thine  heart  shall  be  dulled  and  chilly  with  e'en  such  a  mingling  of  mighty 
As  in  Sigurd's  cup  she  mingled,  and  thou  shalt  not  remember  aright." 

Out-brake  the  child  of  the  Niblungs :  "  A  witless  lie  is  this ; 

But  thou  sickenest  sore  for  Sigurd,  and  the  giver  of  all  bliss  : 

A  ruthless  liar  thou  art :  thou  wouldst  cut  off  my  glory  and  gain. 

Though  it  further  thine  own  hope  nothing,  and  thy  longing  be  empty  and  vain. 

Ah,  thou  hungerest  after  mine  husband  ! — yet  greatly  art  thou  wed, 

And  high  o'er  the  kings  of  the  Goth-folk  doth  Gunnar  rear  the  head." 

"  Which  one  of  the  sons  of  Giuki,"  said  Brynhild,  "  durst  to  ride 
Through  the  waves  of  my  Flickering  Fire  to  lie  by  Brynhild's  side  ? 
Thou  shouldst  know  him,  O  Sister  of  Kings ;  let  the  glorious  name  be  said, 
Lest  mine  oath  in  the  water  be  written,  and  I  wake  up,  vile  and  betrayed, 
In  the  arms  of  the  faint-heart  dastard,  and  of  him  that  loveth  life, 
And  casteth  his  deeds  to  another,  and  the  wooing  of  his  wife." 

"  Yea,  hearken,"  said  she  of  the  Niblungs,  "  what  words  the  stranger  saith ! 
Hear  the  words  of  the  fool  of  love,  how  she  feareth  not  the  death. 
Nor  to  cry  the  shame  on  Gunnar,  whom  the  King-folk  tremble  before  : 
The  wise  and  the  overcomer,  the  crown  of  happy  war ! " 

Said  Brynhild  :  "  Long  were  the  days  ere  the  Son  of  Sigmund  came  ; 
Long  were  the  days  and  lone,  but  nought  I  dreamed  of  the  shame. 
So  may  the  day  come,  Grimhild,  when  thine  eyes  know  not  thy  son  1 
Think  then  on  the  man  I  knew  not,  and  the  deed  thy  guile  hath  done  !  '* 

Then  coldly  laughed  Queen  Gudrun,  and  she  said  .   "  Wilt  thou  lay  all  things 
On  the  woman  that  hath  loved  thee  and  the  Mother  of  the  Kings  ? 
O  all-wise  Queen  of  the  Niblungs,  was  this  change  too  hard  a  part 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  239 

For  the  learned  in  the  lore  of  Regin,  who  ate  of  the  Serpent's  heart  ? " 

Then  was  Brynhild  silent  a  little,  and  forth  from  the  Niblung  hall 

Came  the  sound  of  the  laughter  of  men  to  the  garth  by  the  nook  of  the  wall  j 

And  a  wind  arose  in  the  twilight,  and  sounds  came  up  from  the  plain 

Of  kine  in  the  dew-fall  wandering,  and  of  oxen  loosed  from  the  wain, 

And  the  songs  of  folk  free-hearted,  and  the  river  rushing  by ; 

And  the  heart  of  Brynhild  hearkened  and  she  cried  with  a  grievous  cry : 

"  O  SigTird,  O  my  Sigurd,  we  twain  were  one,  time  was. 
And  the  wide  world  lay  before  us  and  the  deeds  to  bring  to  pass  ! 
And  now  I  am  nought  for  helping,  and  no  helping  mayst  thou  give  ; 
And  all  is  marred  and  evil,  and  why  hast  thou  heart  to  live  ? " 

She  held  her  peace  for  anguish,  and  forth  from  the  hall  there  came 

The  shouts  of  the  joyous  Niblungs,  and  the  sound  of  Sigurd's  name : 

And  Brynhild  turned  from  Gudrun,  and  lifted  her  voice  and  said: 

"  O  evil  house  of  the  Niblungs,  may  the  day  of  your  woe  and  your  dread 

Be  meted  with  the  measure  of  the  guile  ye  dealt  to  me. 

When  ye  sealed  your  hearts  from  pity  and  forgat  my  misery !  " 

And  she  turned  to  flee  from  the  garden  j  but  her  gown-lap  Gudrun  caught. 
And  cried  :  "  Thou  evil  woman,  for  thee  were  the  Niblungs  wrought. 
And  their  day  of  the  fame  past  telling,  that  they  should  heed  thy  life  ? 
Dear  house  of  the  Niblung  glory,  fair  bloom  of  the  warriors'  strife. 
How  well  shalt  thou  stand  triumphant,  when  all  we  lie  in  the  earth 
For  a  little  while  remembered  in  the  story  of  thy  worth !  " 

But  the  lap  of  her  linen  raiment  did  Brynhild  tear  from  her  hold 

And  spake  from  her  mouth  brought  nigher,  and  her  voice  was  low  and  cold 

"  Such  pride  and  comfort  in  Sigurd  henceforward  mayst  thou  find, 
Such  joy  of  his  life's  endurance,  as  thou  leavst  me  joy  behind !  " 


240  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  turmoil  of  wrath  wrapt  Gudrun,  that  she  knew  not  the  day  from  the  night, 
And  she  hardened  her  heart  for  evil  as  the  warriors  when  they  smite : 
And  she  cried  :  "  Thou  filled  with  murder,  my  love  shall  blossom  and  bloom 
When  thou  liest  in  the  hell  forgotten !  smite  thence  from  the  deedless  gloom, 
Smite  thence  at  the  lovely  Sigurd,  from  the  dark  without  a  day ! 
Let  the  hand  that  death  hath  loosened  the  King  of  Glory  slay !  " 

So  died  her  words  of  anger,  and  her  latter  speech  none  heard. 
Save  the  wind  of  the  early  night-tide  and  the  leaves  by  its  wandering  stirred ; 
For  amidst  her  wrath  and  her  blindness  was  the  hapless  Brynhild  gone : 
And  she  fled  from  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs  and  cried  to  the  night  alone 

"  O  Sigurd,  O  my  Sigurd,  what  now  shall  give  me  back 

One  word  of  thy  loving-kindness  from  the  tangle  and  the  wrack  ? 

O  Norns,  fast  bound  from  helping,  O  Gods  that  never  weep, 

Ye  have  left  stark  death  to  help  us,  and  the  semblance  of  our  sleep ! 

Yet  I  sleep  and  remember  Sigurd ;  and  I  wake  and  nought  is  there, 

Save  the  golden  bed  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  hangings  fashioned  fair : 

If  I  stretch  out  mine  hand  to  take  it,  that  sleep  that  the  sword-edge  gives, 

How  then  shall  I  come  on  Sigurd,  when  again  my  sorrow  lives 

In  the  dreams  of  the  slumber  of  death  ?  O  nameless  measureless  woe, 

To  abide  on  the  earth  without  him,  and  alone  from  earth  to  go  !  " 

So  wailed  the  wife  of  Gunnar,  as  she  fled  through  the  summer  night, 
And  unwitting  around  she  wandered,  till  again  in  the  dawning  light 
She  stood  by  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  dwelling  of  her  lord. 

Awhile  bode  the  white-armed  Gudrun  on  the  edge  of  the  daisied  sward, 
Till  she  shrank  from  the  lonely  flowers  and  the  chill,  speech-burdened  wind. 
Then  she  turned  to  the  house  of  her  fathers  and  her  golden  chamber  kind ; 
And  for  long  by  the  side  of  Sigurd  hath  she  lain  in  light-breathed  sleep, 
While  yet  the  winds  of  night-tide  round  the  wandering  Brynhild  sweep. 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  241 


Gunnar  talketh  with  Brynhild. 

On  the  morrow  awakeneth  Gudrun ;  and  she  speaketh  with  Sigurd  and  saith 
"  For  what  cause  is  Brynhild  heavy,  and  as  one  who  abideth  but  death  ?  " 

"  Yea,'  Sigurd  said,  "  is  it  so  ?  as  a  great  queen  she  goes  upon  earth, 
And  thoughtful  of  weighty  matters,  and  things  that  are  most  of  worth." 

"  It  was  other  than  this,"  said  Gudrun,  "  that  I  deemed  her  yesterday  , 
All  men  would  have  said  great  trouble  on  the  wife  of  Gunnar  lay." 

"  Is  it  so  ?  "  saith  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  "  Ah,  I  sore  misdoubt  me  then, 
That  thereof  shall  we  hear  great  tidings  that  shall  be  for  the  ruin  of  men/' 

"  Why  grieveth  she  so,"  said  Gudrun,  "  a  queen  so  mighty  and  wise. 
The  Chooser  of  the  war-host,  the  desire  of  many  eyes, 
The  Queen  of  the  glorious  Gunnar,  the  wife  of  the  man  she  chose  ? 
And  she  sits  by  his  side  on  the  high-seat,  as  the  lily  blooms  by  the  rose." 

"Where  then  in  the  world  was  Brynhild,"  said  he,  "  when  she  spake  that  word, 
And  said  that  her  beloved  was  her  very  earthly  lord  } " 

Then  was  Sigurd  silent  a  little,  and  Gudrun  spake  no  more  j 

For  despite  the  heart  of  the  Niblungs,  and  her  love  exceeding  sore 

With  fear  her  soul  was  smitten  for  the  word  that  Sigurd  spake. 

And  yet  more  for  his  following  silence  ;  and  the  stark  death  seemed  to  awake 

And  stride  through  the  Niblung  dwelling,  and  the  sunny  morn  grew  dim  : 

Till,  lo,  the  voice  of  the  Volsung,  and  the  speech  came  forth  from  him. 

"  Hearken,  Gudrun  my  wife ;  the  season  is  nigh  at  hand, 
Yea,  the  day  is  now  on  the  threshold,  when  thou  alone  in  the  land 
Shalt  answer  for  Sigurd  departed,  and  shalt  say  that  I  loved  thee  well ; 
16 


242  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

And  yet  if  thou  hear'st  men  say  it,  then  true  is  the  tale  to  tell 

That  Brynhild  was  my  beloved  in  the  tide  and  the  season  of  youth ; 

And  as  great  as  is  thy  true-love,  e'en  so  was  her  love  and  her  truth. 

But  for  this  cause  thus  have  I  spoken,  that  the  tale  of  the  night  hast  thou  told 

And  cast  the  word  unto  Brynhild,  and  shown  her  the  token  of  gold. 

—  A  deed  for  the  slaying  of  many,  and  the  ending  of  my  life. 

Since  I  betrayed  her  unwitting. —  Yet  grieve  not,  Gudrun  my  wife! 

For  cloudy  of  late  were  the  heavens  with  many  a  woven  lie. 

And  now  is  the  clear  of  the  twilight,  when  the  slumber  draweth  anigh. 

But  call  up  the  soul  of  the  Niblungs,  and  harden  thine  heart  to  bear, 

For  wert  thou  not  sprung  from  the  mighty,  today  were  thy  portion  of  fear : 

Yea,  thou  wottest  it  even  as  I ;  but  I  see  thine  heart  arise. 

And  the  soul  of  the  mighty  Niblungs,  and  fair  is  the  love  in  thine  eyes." 

Then  forth  went  the  King  from  the  chamber  to  the  council  of  the  Kings 
And  he  sat  with  the  wise  in  the  Doom-ring  for  the  sifting  ot  troublous  things, 
And  rejoiced  the  heart  of  the  people :  and  the  Wrath  kept  watch  by  his  side, 
And  his  eyen  weire  nothing  dimmer  than  on  many  a  joyous  tide. 

But  abed  lay  Brynhild  the  Queen,  as  a  woman  dead  she  lay, 
And  no  word  for  better  or  worse  to  the  best  of  her  folk  would  she  say : 
So  they  bore  the  tidings  to  Gunnar,  and  said :  "  Queen  Brynhild  ails 
With  a  sickness  whereof  none  knoweth,  and  death  o'er  her  life  prevails." 

Then  uprose  Gunnar  the  Niblung,  and  he  went  to  Brynhild  his  wife, 
And  prayed  her  to  strengthen  her  heart  for  the  glory  of  his  life : 
But  she  gave  not  a  word  in  answer,  nor  turned  to  where  he  stood, 
And  there  rose  up  a  fear  in  his  heart,  and  he  looked  for  little  of  good : 
There  he  bode  for  a  long  while  silent,  and  the  thought  within  him  stirred 
Of  wise  speech  of  his  mother  Grimhild,  and  many  a  warning  word : 
But  he  spake : 

"  Art  thou  smitten  of  God,  unto  whom  shall  we  cast  the  prayer? 
Art  thou  wronged  by  one  of  the  King-folk,  for  whom  shall  the  blades  be  bare?" 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  243 

Belike  she  never  heard  him ;  she  lay  in  her  misery, 

And  the  slow  tears  gushed  from  her  eyen  and  nought  of  the  world  would  she 

But  ill  thoughts  arose  in  Gunnar,  and  remembrance  of  the  speech         [see. 

Erst  spoken  low  by  Grimhild ;  yet  he  turned  his  heart  to  beseech, 

And  he  spake  again : 

"  O  Brynhild,  if  I  ever  made  thee  glad, 
If  the  glory  of  the  great-ones  of  my  gift  thine  heart  hath  had, 
As  mine  heart  hath  been  faithful  to  thee,  as  I  longed  for  thy  life-days'  gain. 
Tell  now  of  thy  toil  and  thy  trouble  that  we  each  of  each  may  be  fain ! " 

Nought  spake  she,  nothing  she  moved,  and  the  tears  were  dried  on  her  cheek  j 
But  the  very  words  of  Grimhild  did  Gunnar's  memory  seek; 
He  sought  and  he  found  and  considered ;  and  mighty  he  was  and  young, 
And  he  thought  of  the  deeds  of  his  fathers  and  the  tales  of  the  Niblungs  sung ; 
How  they  bore  no  God's  constraining,  and  rode  through  the  wrong  and  the 

right 
That  the  storm  of  their  wrath  might  quicken,  and  their  tempest  carry  the  light. 
The  words  of  his  mother  he  gathered  and  the  wrath-flood  over  him  rolled^ 
And  with  it  came  many  a  longing,  that  his  heart  had  never  told, 
Nay,  scarce  to  himself  in  the  night-tide,  for  the  gain  of  the  ruddy  rings, 
And  the  fame  of  the  earth  unquestioned  and  the  mastery  over  kings. 
And  he  sole  King  in  the  world-throne,  unequalled,  unconstrained ; 
And  with  wordless  wrath  he  fretted  at  the  bonds  that  his  glory  had  chained 
And  the  bitter  anger  stirred  him,  and  at  last  he  spake  and  cried : 

"  How  long,  O  all-wise  Brynhild,  like  the  dead  wilt  thou  abide, 

Nor  speak  to  thy  lord  and  thy  husband  and  the  man  that  rode  thy  Fire, 

And  mocked  at  the  bane  of  King-folk  to  accomplish  thy  desire  ? 

I  deem  thou  sickenest,  Brynhild,  with  the  love  of  a  mighty-one. 

The  foe,  the  King's  supplanter,  he  that  so  long  hath  shone 

Mid  the  honour  of  our  fathers,  and  the  lovely  Niblung  house, 

Like  a  serpent  amidst  of  the  treasure  that  the  day  makes  glorious." 


244  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Yet  never  a  word  she  answered,  nor  unto  the  great  King  turned 

Till  through  all  the  patience  of  King-folk  the  flame  of  his  anger  burned, 

And  his  voice  was  the  rattling  thunder,  as  he  cried  across  the  bed : 

"  O  who  art  thou,  fearful  woman  ?  art  thou  one  of  the  first  of  the  dead  ? 
Hast  thou  long  ago  seen  and  hated  the  tide  of  the  Niblung  praise. 
And  clad  thee  in  flesh  twice  over  for  the  bane  of  our  happy  days  ? 
Art  thou  come  from  the  far-off  country  that  none  may  live  and  behold 
For  the  bane  of  the  King  of  the  Niblungs,  and  of  Sigurd  lord  of  the  Gold  ?  * 

Then  she  raised  herself  on  her  elbow  and  turned  her  eyes  on  the  King : 

"  O  tell  me  Gunnar,"  she  said,  "that  thou  gavest  Andvari's  Ring 

To  thy  sister  the  white-armed  Gudrun !  —  thou,  not  thy  captain  of  war, 

The  son  of  the  God-born  Volsungs,  the  Lord  of  the  Treasure  of  yore ! 

O  swear  it  that  I  may  live !  that  I  may  be  glad  in  thine  hall, 

And  weave  with  the  wisdom  of  women,  and  broider  the  purple  and  pall, 

And  look  in  thy  face  at  the  chess-play,  and  drink  of  thy  carven  cup, 

And  whisper  a  word  in  season  when  the  voice  of  the  wise  goes  up, 

And  speak  thee  the  speech  of  kindness  by  the  hallowed  Niblung  hearth. 

O  swear  it.  King  of  the  Niblungs,  lest  thine  honour  die  of  the  dearth ! 

O  swear  it,  lord  I  have  wedded,  lest  mine  honour  come  to  nought, 

And  I  be  but  a  wretch  and  a  bondmaid  for  a  year's  embracing  bought ! " 

Till  his  heart  hath  heard  her  meaning  at  the  golden  bed  he  stares, 

And  the  last  of  the  words  she  speaketh  flit  empty  past  his  ears ; 

For  he  knows  that  the  tale  of  the  night-tide  hath  been  told  and  understood 

And  now  of  her  shame  was  he  deeming  e'en  worse  than  Brynhild  would. 

So  he  turns  from  her  face  and  the  chamber  with  his  glory  so  undone, 

That  he  saith  the  Gods  did  evil  when  the  mighty  work  they  won. 

And  wrought  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs,  and  fashioned  his  fathers'  days, 

And  led  them  on  to  the  harvest  of  the  deeds  and  the  people's  praise. 

And  nought  he  sees  to  amend  it,  save  the  hungry  eyeless  sword. 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  24c 

And  the  war  without  hope  or  honour,  and  the  strife  without  reward. 

So  alone  he  goeth  his  ways,  and  the  morn  to  the  noontide  falls. 

And  the  sun  goeth  down  in  the  heavens,  and  fades  from  the  Niblung  walls. 

And  the  dusk  and  the  dark  draw  over,  and  no  man  the  King  may  see. 

But  Sigurd  sits  in  the  hall  mid  the  war-dukes'  company ; 

Alone  of  the  Kings  in  the  Doom-ring,  and  the  council  of  the  wise. 

By  the  street  and  the  wharf  and  the  burg-gate  he  shines  in  the  people's  eyes 

Stately  and  lovely  to  look  on  he  heareth  of  good  and  of  ill. 

And  he  knitteth  up  and  divideth,  with  life  and  death  at  his  will. 

Of  the  exceeding  great  grief  and  mourning  of  Brynhild. 

Now  the  sun  cometh  up  in  the  morning  and  shines  o'er  holt  and  heath, 
And  the  wall  of  the  mighty  mountains,  and  the  sheep-fed  slopes  beneath, 
And  the  horse-fed  plain  and  the  river,  and  the  acres  of  the  wheat. 
And  the  herbs  of  bane  and  of  healing,  and  the  garden  hedges  sweet , 
It  shines  on  the  sea  and  the  shepherd,  and  the  husbandman's  desire  j 
On  the  Niblung  Burg  it  shineth  and  smiteth  the  vanes  afire  ; 
And  in  Gudrun's  bower  it  shineth,  and  seeth  small  joy  therein, 
For  hushed  the  fair-clad  maidens  the  work  of  women  win ; 
Then  Gudrun  looketh  about  her,  and  she  saith : 

"  Why  sit  ye  so, 
That  I  hearken  but  creak  of  the  loom-stock  and  the  battens'  homeward  blow 
Why  is  your  joy  departed  and  your  sweet  speech  fallen  dumb  ? 
Are  the  Niblungs  fled  from  the  battle,  is  their  war-host  overcome  ? 
Have  the  Norns  given  forth  their  shaming  ?  have  they  fallen  in  the  fight  ? 
Yet  the  sun  shines  notwithstanding,  and  the  world  around  is  bright." 

Then  answered  a  noble  woman,  and  the  wise  of  maids  was  she : 

*  Thou  knowest,  O  lovely  lady,  that  nought  of  this  may  be; 

Yet  with  woe  that  the  world  shall  hearken  the  glorious  house  is  filled, 


246  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

On  the  hearth  of  all  men  hallowed  the  cup  of  joy  is  spilled. 
—  A  dread,  an  untimely  hour,  an  exceeding  evil  day ! " 

Then  the  wife  of  Sigurd  answered :  "  Arise  and  go  thy  way 

To  the  chamber  of  Queen  Brynhild,  and  bid  her  wake  at  last, 

For  that  long  have  we  slept  and  slumbered,  and  the  deedless  night  is  passed : 

Bid  her  wake  to  the  deeds  of  queen-folk,  and  be  glad  as  the  world-queens  are 

When  they  look  on  the  people  that  loves  them,  and  thrust  all  trouble  afar. 

Let  her  foster  her  greatness  and  glory,  and  the  fame  no  ages  forget, 

That  tomorn  may  as  yesterday  blossom,  yea  more  abundantly  yet." 

Then  arose  the  light-foot  maiden :  but  she  stayed  and  spake  by  the  dooi . 
"  O  Gudrun,  I  durst  not  behold  her,  for  the  days  of  her  joyance  are  o'er, 
And  the  days  of  her  life  are  numbered,  and  her  might  is  waxen  weak, 
And  she  lieth  as  one  forsaken,  and  no  word  her  lips  will  speak, 
Nay  not  to  her  lord  that  loveth :  but  all  we  deem,  O  Queen, 
That  the  wrath  of  the  Gods  is  upon  her  for  ancient  deeds  unseen." 

Nought  answered  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  but  the  fear  in  her  soul  arose, 
For  she  thought  of  the  golden  Sigurd,  and  the  compassing  of  foes, 
And  great  grew  the  dread  of  her  maidens  as  they  gazed  upon  her  face : 
But  she  rose  and  looked  not  backward  as  she  hastened  from  her  place. 
And  sought  the  King  of  the  Niblungs  by  hall  and  chamber  and  stair. 
And  bright  was  the  pure  mid-morning  and  the  wind  was  fresh  and  fair. 

So  she  came  on  her  brother  Gunnar,  as  he  sat  apart  and  alone. 
Arrayed  in  the  Niblung  war-gear,  nor  moved  he  more  than  the  stone 
In  the  jaws  of  the  barren  valley  and  the  man-deserted  dale ; 
On  his  knees  was  the  breadth  of  the  sunshine,  and  thereon  lay  the  edges  pal^ 
The  war-flame  of  the  Niblungs,  the  sword  that  his  right  hand  knew : 

White  was  the  fear  on  her  lips,  and  hard  at  her  heart  it  drew 
As  she  spake : 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  247 

"  I  have  found  thee,  O  brother !  O  Gunnar,  go  to  her  and  say 
That  my  heart  is  grieved  with  her  grief  and  I  mourn  for  her  evil  day." 

Then  Gunnar  answered  her  word,  but  his  words  were  heavy  and  slow : 
"  Thou  knowst  not  the  words  thou  speakest — and  wherefore  should  I  go^ 
Since  I  am  forbidden  to  share  it,  the  woe  or  the  weal  of  her  heart  ? 
Look  thou  on  the  King  of  the  Niblungs,  how  he  sitteth  alone  and  apart, 
Fast  bound  in  the  wiles  of  women,  and  the  web  that  a  traitor  hath  spun, 
And  no  deed  for  his  hand  he  knoweth,  or  to  do  or  to  leave  undone." 

Wan-faced  from  before  him  she  fled,  and  she  went  with  hurrying  feet. 

And  no  child  of  man  in  her  going  would  she  look  upon  or  greet, 

Till  she  came  unto  Hogni  the  Wise ;  and  he  sat  in  his  war-array. 

The  coal-blue  gear  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  sword  o'er  his  knees  there  lay : 

She  sickened,  and  said :  "  What  dost  thou  ?  what  then  is  the  day  and  the  deed. 
That  the  sword  on  thy  knees  is  naked,  and  thou  clad  in  the  warrior's  weed  ? 
Go  in,  go  in  to  Brynhild,  and  tell  her  how  I  mourn 
For  the  grief  whereof  none  wotteth  that  hath  made  her  days  forlorn." 

"  It  is  good,  my  sister,"  said  Hogni,  "  to  abide  in  the  harness  of  war 
When  the  days  and  the  days  are  changing,  and  the  Norns'  feet  stand  by  the 
I  will  nowise  go  in  unto  Brynhild,  lest  the  evil  tide  grow  worse.  [door. 

For  what  woman  will  bear  the  sorrow  and  burden  her  soul  with  a  curse 
If  she  may  escape  it  unbidden  ?  and  there  are  words  that  wound 
Far  worse  than  the  bitter  edges,  though  wise  in  the  air  they  sound. 
Bide  thou  and  behold  things  fated  !  Hast  thou  learned  how  men  may  teach 
The  stars  in  their  ordered  courses,  or  lead  the  Norns  with  speech  ? " 

She  stood  and  trembled  before  him,  nor  durst  she  long  behold 

The  silent  face  of  Hogni  and  the  far-seeing  eyes  and  cold. 

So  she  gat  her  forth  from  before  him,  and  Sigurd  her  husband  she  soughl 

And  the  speech  on  her  lips  was  ready,  till  the  chill  fear  made  it  nought ; 


248  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

For  apart  and  alone  was  he  sitting  in  all  his  war-gear  clad 

And  Fafnir's  Helm  of  Aweing,  and  Regin's  Wrath  he  had, 

And  over  the  breast  of  Sigurd  was  the  Hauberk  all  of  gold 

That  hath  not  the  like  in  the  heavens  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told. 

But  he  set  her  down  beside  him  and  said :  "  What  fearest  thou  then  ? 
What  terror  strideth  in  daylight  mid  the  peace  of  the  Niblung  men  ? " 

She  cried :  "  The  Helm  and  the  Sword,  and  the  golden  guard  of  thy  breast ! " 

"  So  oft,  O  wife,"  said  Sigurd,  "  is  a  war-king  clad  the  best 

When  the  peril  quickens  before  him,  and  on  either  hand  is  doubt ;       [out. 

Thus  men  wreathe  round  the  beaker  whence  the  wine  shall  be  soon  poured 

But  fear  thou  not  o'ermuch,  for  the  end  is  not  today ; 

And  hope  thou  little  indeed,  for  not  long  shall  the  sword  delay : 

But  speak,  O  daughter  of  Giuki,  for  thy  lips  scarce  held  the  word 

Ere  thou  sawest  the  gleam  of  my  hauberk  and  the  edge  of  the  ancient  Sword, 

The  Light  that  hath  lain  in  the  Branstock,  the  hope  of  the  Volsung  tree, 

The  Sunderer,  the  Deliverer,  the  torch  of  days  to  be." 

She  sighed ;  for  her  heart  was  heavy  for  the  days  but  a  while  agone. 
When  the  death  was  little  dreamed  of,  and  the  joy  was  lightly  won ; 
And  her  soul  was  bitter  with  anger  for  the  day  that  Brynhild  had  led 
To  the  heart  of  the  Niblung  glory  :  but  fear  thrust  on,  and  she  said : 
"  O  my  lord,  O  Sigurd  the  mighty,  an  evil  day  is  this, 
A  chill,  an  untimely  hour  for  the  blooming  of  our  bliss ! 
Go  in  to  my  sister  Brynhild,  and  tell  her  of  very  sooth 
That  my  heart  for  her  sorrow  sorrows,  and  is  sick  for  woe  and  ruth." 

"The  hour  draws  nigh,"  said  Sigurd,  "for  I  know  of  the  speech  and  the  word 
That  is  kind  in  the  air  to  hearken,  and  is  worse  than  the  whetted  sword. 
Now  is  Brynhild  sore  encompassed  by  a  tide  of  measureless  woe. 
And  amidst  and  anear,  as  I  see  it,  she  seeth  the  death-star  grow. 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  249 

Yet  belike  it  is,  O  Gudrun,  that  thy  will  herein  shall  be  done  ; 

But  now  depart,  I  pray  thee,  and  leave  thy  lord  alone : 

Heavy  and  hard  shall  it  be,  for  a  season  shall  it  endure, 

But  the  grief  and  the  sorrow  shall  perish,  and  the  fame  of  the  Gods  is  sure." 

Yet  she  sat  by  his  side  and  spake  not,  and  a  while  at  his  glory  she  gazed, 
For  his  face  o'erpassed  the  brightness  that  so  long  the  folk  had  praised. 
And  she  durst  not  question  or  touch  him,  and  at  last  she  rose  from  his  side, 
And  gat  her  away  soft-footed,  and  wandered  far  and  wide 
Through  the  house  and  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs  ;  yet  durst  she  never  mor<' 
Go  look  on  the  Niblung  Brethren  as  they  sat  in  their  harness  of  war. 

But  the  morn  to  the  noon  hath  fallen,  and  the  afternoon  to  the  eve, 
And  the  beams  of  the  westering  sun  the  Niblung  wall-stones  leave. 
And  yet  sitteth  Sigurd  alone ;  then  the  sun  sinketh  down  into  night. 
And  the  moon  ariseth  in  heaven,  and  the  earth  is  pale  with  her  light : 
And  there  sitteth  Sigurd  the  Volsung  in  the  gold  and  the  harness  of  war 
That  was  won  from  the  heart-wise  Fafnir  and  the  guarded  Treasure  of  yore. 
But  pale  is  the  Helm  of  Aweing,  and  wan  are  the  ruddy  rings  : 
So  whiles  in  a  city  forsaken  ye  see  the  shapes  of  kings,  [and  known, 

And  the  lips  that  the  carvers  wrought,  while  their  words  were  remembered 
And  the  brows  men  trembled  to  look  on  in  the  long-enduring  stone, 
And  their  hands  once  unforgotten,  and  their  breasts,  the  walls  of  war : 
But  now  are  they  hidden  marvels  to  the  wise  and  the  master  of  lore, 
And  he  nameth  them  not,  nor  knoweth,  and  their  fear  is  faded  away. 

E'en  so  sat  Sigurd  the  Volsung  till  the  night  waxed  moonless  and  grey, 
Till  the  chill  dawn  spread  o'er  the  lowland,  and  the  purple  fells  grew  clear 
In  the  cloudless  summer  dawn-dusk,  and  the  sun  was  drawing  anear : 
Then  reddened  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  walls  of  the  ancient  folk, 
And  a  wind  came  down  from  the  mountains  and  the  living  things  awoke 
And  cried  out  for  need  and  rejoicing ;  till,  lo,  the  rim  of  the  sun 
Showed  over  the  eastern  ridges,  and  the  new  day  was  begun ; 


250  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

And  the  beams  rose  higher  and  higher,  and  white  grew  the  Niblung  wall, 
And  the  spears  on  the  ramparts  glistered  and  the  windows  blazed  withal, 
And  the  sunlight  flooded  the  courts,  and  throughout  the  chambers  streamed ; 
Then  bright  as  the  flames  of  the  heaven  the  Helm  of  Aweing  gleamed, 
Then  clashed  the  red  rings  of  the  Treasure,  as  Sigurd  stood  on  his  feet, 
And  went  through  the  echoing  chambers,  as  the  winds  in  the  wall-nook  beat : 
And  there  in  the  earliest  morning  while  the  lords  of  the  Niblungs  lie 
'Twixt  light  sleep  and  awakening  they  hear  the  clash  go  by. 
And  their  dreams  are  of  happy  battle,  and  the  songs  that  follow  fame. 
And  the  hope  of  the  Gods  accomplished,  and  the  tales  of  the  ancient  name 
Ere  Sigurd  came  to  the  Niblungs  and  faced  their  gathered  foes. 

But  on  to  the  chamber  of  Brynhild  alone  in  the  morning  he  goes 

And  the  sun  lieth  broad  across  it,  and  the  door  is  open  wide 

As  the  last  of  the  women  had  left  it ;  then  he  lifted  his  voice  and  cried : 

"  Awake,  arise,  O  Brynhild !  for  the  house  is  smitten  through 
With  the  light  of  the  sun  awakened,  and  the  hope  of  deeds  to  do." 

She  spake :  "  Art  thou  come  to  behold  me  ?  thou,  the  mightiest  and  the  worst 
Of  the  pitiless  betrayers,  that  the  hope  of  my  life  hath  nursed." 

He  said :  "  It  is  I  that  awake  thee,  and  I  give  thee  the  life  and  the  days 
For  fulfilling  the  deedful  measure,  and  the  cup  of  the  people's  praise." 

She  cried :  "  O  the  gifts  of  Sigurd ! — Ah  why  didst  thou  cast  me  aside,  [pride? 
That  we  twain  should  be  dwelling,  the  strangers,  in  the  house  of  the  Niblung 
What  life  is  the  death  in  life?  what  deeds  —  where  the  shame  cometh  up 
Betwixt  the  speech  of  the  wise-ones  and  the  draught  of  the  welcoming  cup ; 
And  the  shame  and  repentance  awaketh  when  the  song  in  the  harp  is  awake  ? 
Where  we  rise  in  the  morning  for  nothing,  and  lie  down  for  no  love's  sake  ? 
Where  thou  ridest  forth  to  the  battle  and  the  dead  hope  duUeth  thy  light, 
And  with  shame  thy  hand  is  cumbered  when  the  sword  is  uplifted  to  smite  ? 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  251 

O  Sigurd,  what  hast  thou  done,  that  the  gifts  are  cast  aback  ? 

—  O  nay,  no  life  of  repentance  !  —  but  the  bitter  sword  and  the  wrack  !  " 

"  O  Brynhild,  live  !  "  said  the  Volsung,  "  for  what  shall  the  world  be  then 
When  thou  from  the  earth  art  departed,  and  the  hallowed  hearths  of  men  ? " 

She  said  :  "Woe  worth  the  while  for  the  word  that  hath  come  from  thy  mouth ! 

As  the  bitter  weltering  ocean  to  the  shipman  dying  of  drought, 

E'en  so  is  the  life  thou  biddest,  since  thou  pitiedst  not  thine  own. 

Nor  thy  love,  nor  the  hope  of  thy  life-days,  but  must  dwell  as  a  glory  alone !  " 

"  It  is  truer  to  tell,"  said  Sigurd,  "  that  mine  heart  in  thy  love  was  enwrapped 
Till  the  evil  hour  of  the  darkening,  and  the  eyeless  tangle  had  happed  : 
And  thereof  shalt  thou  know,  O  Brynhild,  on  one  day  better  than  I,    [die . 
When  the  stroke  of  the  sword  hath  been  smitten,  and  the  night  hath  seen  me 
Then  belike  in  thy  fresh-springing  wisdom  thou  shalt  know  of  the  dark  and 

the  deed. 
And  the  snare  for  our  feet  fore-ordered  from  whence  they  shalt  never  be  freed. 
But  for  me,  in  the  net  I  awakened  and  the  toils  that  unwitting  I  wove, 
And  no  tongue  may  tell  of  the  sorrow  that  I  had  for  thy  wedded  love  : 
But  I  dwelt  in  the  dwelling  of  kings  ;  so  I  thrust  its  seeming  apart 
And  I  laboured  the  field  of  Odin :  and  e'en  this  was  a  joy  to  my  heart. 
That  we  dwelt  in  one  house  together,  though  a  stranger's  house  it  were." 

"  O  late,  and  o'erlate  ! "  cried  Brynhild  —  "  may  the  dead  folk  hearken  and 
All  was  and  today  it  is  not  —  And  the  Oath  unto  Gunnar  is  sworn,  [hear  ? 
Shall  I  live  the  days  twice  over,  and  the  life  thou  hast  made  forlorn  ?  " 

And  she  heard  the  words  of  Hindfell  and  the  oath  of  the  earlier  day, 
Till  the  daylight  darkened  before  her,  and  all  memory  passed  away. 
And  she  cried :  "  I  may  live  no  longer,  for  the  Gods  have  forgotten  the  earth, 
And  my  heart  is  the  forge  of  sorrow,  and  my  life  is  a  wasting  dearth." 


252  THE  STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Then  once  again  spake  Sigurd,  once  only  and  no  more : 

A  pillar  of  light  all  golden  he  stood  on  the  sunlit  floor ; 

And  his  eyes  were  the  eyes  of  Odin,  and  his  face  was  the  hope  of  the  worldj 

And  his  voice  was  the  thunder  of  even  when  the  bolt  o'er  the  mountains  is 

The  fairest  of  all  things  fashioned  he  stood  'twixt  life  and  death,    [hurled  , 

And  the  Wrath  of  Regin  rattled,  and  the  rings  of  the  Glittering  Heath, 

As  he  cried : 

"  I  am  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  and  belike  the  tale  shall  be  true 
That  no  hand  on  the  earth  may  hinder  what  my  hand  would  fashion  and  do  : 
And  what  God  or  what  man  shall  gainsay  it  if  our  love  be  greater  than  these, 
The  pride  and  the  glory  of  Sigurd,  and  the  latter  days'  increase  ? 
O  live,  live,  Brynhild  beloved !  and  thee  on  the  earth  will  I  wed. 
And  put  away  Gudrun  the  Niblung  —  and  all  those  shall  be  as  the  dead." 

But  so  swelled  the  heart  within  him  as  he  cast  the  speech  abroad, 
That  the  golden  wall  of  the  battle,  the  fence  unrent  by  the  sword, 
The  red  rings  of  the  uttermost  ocean  on  the  breast  of  Sigurd  brake  : 
And  he  saw  the  eyes  of  Brynhild,  and  turned  from  the  word  she  spake : 

"I  will  not  wed  thee,  Sigurd,  nor  any  man  alive." 

Then  Sigurd  goes  out  from  before  her ;  and  the  winds  in  the  wall-nook  strive, 
And  the  craving  of  fowl  and  the  beast-kind  with  the  speech  of  men  is  blent, 
And  the  voice  of  the  sons  of  the  Niblungs  ;  and  their  day's  first  hour  is  spent 
As  he  goes  through  the  hall  of  the  War-dukes,  and  many  an  earl  is  astir. 
But  none  durst  question  Sigurd  lest  of  evil  days  he  hear  : 
So  he  comes  to  his  kingly  chamber,  and  there  sitteth  Gudrun  alone, 
And  the  fear  in  her  soul  is  minished,  but  the  love  and  the  hatred  are  grown  : 
She  is  wan  as  the  moonlit  midnight ;  but  her  heart  is  cold  and  proud. 
And  she  asketh  him  nought  of  Brynhild,  and  nought  he  speaketh  aloud. 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  253 


Of  the  slaying  of  Sigurd  the   Volsung, 

Ere  the  noon  ariseth  Brynhild,  and  forth  abroad  she  goes, 
And  sits  by  the  wall  of  her  bower  'twixt  the  lily  and  the  rose  j 
Great  dread  and  sickness  is  on  her,  as  it  shall  be  once  on  the  morn 
When  the  uttermost  sun  is  arisen  'neath  the  blast  of  the  world-shaking  horn  : 
Her  maidens  come  and  go,  but  none  dares  cast  her  a  word  ;  [sword ; 

From  the  wall  the  warders  behold  her,  and  turn  round  to  the  spear  and  the 
Yea,  few  dare  speak  of  Brynhild  as  morning  fadeth  in  noon 
In  the  Burg  of  the  ancient  people  mid  the  stir  and  the  glory  of  June. 

[saith : 
Then  cometh  forth  speech  from  Brynhild,  and  she  calls  to  her  maidens  and 
"  Go,  tell  ye  the  King  of  the  Niblungs  that  I  am  arisen  from  death. 
And  come  forth  from  the  uttermost  sickness,  and  with  him  I  needs  must 

speak : 
That  we  look  into  weighty  matters  and  due  deeds  for  king-folk  seek." 

So  they  went  and  returned  not  again,  and  it  was  but  a  little  space 
Ere  she  looked,  and  behold,  it  was  Gunnar  that  stood  before  her  face. 
And  his  war-gear  darkened  the  noon-tide  and  the  grey  helm  gleamed  from 

his  head, 
But  his  eyes  were  fearful  beneath  it :  then  she  gazed  on  the  heavens  and  said 

"  Thou  art  come,  O  King  of  the  Niblungs ;  what  mighty  deed  is  to  frame 
That  thou  wearest  the  cloudy  harness,  and  the  arms  of  the  Niblung  name  ?  ^' 

He  spake  :   "  O  woman,  thou  mockest !  what  King  of  the  people  is  here  ? 
Are  not  all  kings  confounded,  and  all  peoples'  shame  laid  bare  ? 
Shall  the  Gods  grow  little  to  help,  or  men  grow  great  to  amend  ? 
Nay,  the  hunt  is  up  in  the  world  and  the  Gods  to  the  forest  will  wend, 
And  their  hearts  are  exceeding  merry  as  they  ride  and  drive  the  prey  ; 
But  what  if  the  bear  grin  on  them,  and  the  wood-beast  turn  to  bay  ? 


254  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

What  now  if  the  whelp  of  their  breeding  a  wolf  of  the  world  be  grown, 
To  cry  out  in  the  face  of  their  brightness  and  mar  their  glad  renown  ?  " 

She  heedeth  him  not,  nor  hearkened :  but  he  said  :  "  Thou  wert  wise  of  old  j 
And  hither  I  come  at  thy  bidding :  let  the  thought  of  thine  heart  be  told.'^ 

She  said :  "  What  aileth  thee,  Gunnar  ?  time  was  thou  wert  great  and  glad, 
And  that  was  yester-morning :  how  then  is  the  good  turned  bad  ?  " 

He  said :  "I  was  glad  in  my  dreams,  and  I  woke  and  my  glory  was  dead." 

"  Hath  a  God  then  wrought  the  evil,  or  one  of  the  King-folk  ?  "  she  said. 

He  said :  "  In  the  snare  am  I  taken,  in  the  web  that  a  traitor  hath  spun  ; 
And  no  deed  knoweth  my  right-hand  to  do  or  to  leave  undone." 

"  I  look  upon  thee,"  said  Brynhild,  "  I  know  thy  race  and  thy  name. 
Yet  meseems  the  deed  thou  sparest,  to  amend  thine  evil  and  shame." 

"  Nought,  nought,"  he  said,  "  may  amend  it,  save  the  hungry  eyeless  sword, 
And  the  war  without  hope  or  honour,  and  the  strife  without  reward." 

"  Thou  hast  spoken  the  word,"  said  Brynhild,  "  if  the  word  is  enough,  it  is  well. 
Let  us  eat  and  drink  and  be  merry,  that  all  men  of  our  words  may  tell ! " 

"  O  all-wise  woman,"  said  Gunnar,  "  what  deed  lieth  under  the  tongue  ? 
What  day  for  the  dearth  of  the  people,  when  the  seed  of  thy  sowing  hatb 

[sprung  ? " 
She  said  :  "  Our  garment  is  Shame,  and  nought  the  web  shall  rend, 
Save  the  day  without  repentance,  and  the  deed  that  nought  may  amend." 

"  Speak,  mighty  of  women,"  said  Gunnar,  "and  cry  out  the  name  and  the  deed 
That  the  ends  of  the  Earth  may  hearken,  and  the  Niblungs'  grievous  Need." 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  255 

"  To  slay,"  she  said,  "  is  the  deed,  to  slay  a  King  ere  the  morn, 

And  the  name  is  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  my  love  and  thy  brother  sworn." 

She  turned  and  departed  from  him,  and  he  knew  not  whither  she  went ; 
But  he  took  his  sword  from  the  girdle  and  the  peace-strings  round  it  rent, 
And  into  the  house  he  gat  him,  and  the  sunlit  fair  abode. 
But  his  heart  in  the  mid-mirk  waded,  as  through  the  halls  he  strode. 
Till  he  came  to  a  chamber  apart ;  and  Grimhild  his  mother  was  there. 
And  there  was  his  brother  Hogni  in  the  cloudy  Niblung  gear  :       [and  wait 
Him-seemed  there  was  silence  between  them  as  of  them  that  have  spoken, 
Till  the  words  of  their  mouths  be  accomplished  by  slow  unholpen  Fate  : 
But  they  turned  to  the  door,  and  beheld  him,  and  he  took  his  sheathbd 

sword 
And  cast  it  adown  betwixt  them,  and  it  clashed  half  bare  on  the  board. 
And  Grimhild  spake  as  it  clattered  :  "  For  whom  are  the  peace-strings  rent  ? 
For  whom  is  the  blood-point  whetted  and  the  edge  of  thine  intent  ? " 

He  said :  "  For  the  heart  of  Sigurd ;  and  thus  all  is  rent  away 
Betwixt  this  word  and  his  slaying,  save  a  little  hour  of  day." 

Then  spake  Hogni  and  answered :  "  All  lands  beneath  the  sun 

Shall  know  and  hearken  and  wonder  that  such  a  deed  must  be  done." 

[worse 
"  Speak,  brother  of  Kings,"  said  Gunnar,  "  dost  thou  know  deeds  better  or 
That  shall  wash  us  clean  from  shaming,  and  redeem  our  lives  from  the  curse  ? " 

**  I  am  none  of  the  Norns,"  said  Hogni,  "  nor  the  heart  of  Odin  the  Goth, 
To  avenge  the  foster-brethren,  or  broken  love  and  troth ; 
Thy  will  is  the  story  fated,  nor  shall  I  look  on  the  deed 
With  uncursed  hands  unreddened,  and  edges  dulled  at  need." 

Again  spake  Grimhild  the  wise-wife  :  "  Where  then  is  Guttorm  the  brave  ? 
For  he  blent  not  his  blood  with  the  Volsung's,  nor  his  oath  to  Sigurd  gave, 


iS6  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Nor  called  on  Earth  to  witness,  nor  went  beneath  the  yoke ; 
And  now  is  he  Sigurd's  foeman  ;  and  who  may  curse  his  stroke  ?  " 

Then  Hogni  laughed  and  answered  :  "His  feet  on  the  threshold  stand : 
Forged  is  thy  sword,  O  Mother,  and  its  hilts  are  come  to  hand, 
And  look  that  thou  whet  it  duly ;  for  the  Norns  are  departed  now ; 
From  the  blood  of  our  foster-brother  no  branch  of  bale  shall  grow ; 
Hoodwinked  are  the  Gods  of  heaven,  their  sleep-dazed  eyes  are  blind ; 
They  shall  peer  and  grope  through  the  darkness,  and  nought  therein  shall  find 
Save  the  red  right  hand  of  Guttorm,  and  his  lips  that  never  swore ; 
At  the  young  man's  deed  shall  they  wonder,  and  all  shall  be  covered  o'er  ; 
Ho,  Guttorm,  enter,  and  hearken  to  the  counsel  of  the  wise ! " 

Then  in  through  the  door  strode  Guttorm  fair-clad  in  hunter's  guise, 
With  no  steel  save  his  wood-knife  girded  ;  but  his  war-fain  eyes  stared  wild. 
As  he  spake  :  "  What  words  are  ye  hiding  from  the  youngest  Niblung  child  ? 
What  work  is  to  win,  my  brethren,  that  ye  sit  in  warrior's  weed, 
And  tell  me  nought  of  the  glory,  and  cover  up  the  deed  ?  " 

Then  uprose  Grimhild  the  wise-wife,  and  took  the  cup  again ; 

Night-long  had  she  brewed  that  witch-drink  and  laboured  not  in  vain. 

For  therein  was  the  creeping  venom,  and  hearts  of  things  that  prey 

On  the  hidden  lives  of  ocean,  and  never  look  on  day ; 

And  the  heart  of  the  ravening  wood-wolf  and  the  hunger-blinded  beast 

And  the  spent  slaked  heart  of  the  wild-fire  the  guileful  cup  increased : 

But  huge  words  of  ancient  evil  about  its  rim  were  scored. 

The  curse  and  the  eyeless  craving  of  the  first  that  fashioned  sword. 

So  the  cup  in  her  hand  was  gleaming,  as  she  turned  unto  Guttorm  and  spake : 
"  Be  merry.  King  of  the  War-fain  !  we  hold  counsel  for  thy  sake : 
The  work  is  a  God's  son's  slaying,  and  thine  is  the  hand  that  shall  smite, 
That  thy  name  may  be  set  in  glory  and  thy  deeds  live  on  in  light." 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  257 

Forth  flashed  the  flame  from  his  eyen,  and  he  cried :  "  Where  then  is  the  foe. 
This  dread  of  mine  house  and  my  brethren,  that  my  hand  may  lay  him  alow  ?'* 

"  Drink  son,"  she  said,  "  and  be  merry !  and  I  shall  tell  his  name, 
Whose  death  shall  crown  thy  life-days,  and  increase  thy  fame  with  his  fame.** 

He  drinketh  and  craveth  for  battle,  and  his  hand  for  a  sword  doth  seek, 
And  he  looketh  about  on  his  brethren,  but  his  lips  no  word  may  speak ; 
They  speak  the  name,  and  he  hears  not,  and  again  he  drinks  of  the  cup 
And  knows  not  friend  nor  kindred,  and  the  wrath  in  his  heart  wells  up. 
That  no  God  may  bear  unmingled,  and  he  cries  a  wordless  cry. 
As  the  last  of  the  day  is  departing  and  the  dusk  time  drawing  anigh. 

Then  Grimhild  goes  from  the  chamber,  and  bringeth  his  harness  of  war. 
And  therewith  they  array  his  body,  and  he  drinketh  the  cup  once  more, 
And  his  heart  is  set  on  the  murder,  and  now  may  he  understand 
What  soul  is  dight  for  the  slaying,  and  what  quarry  is  for  his  hand. 
For  again  they  tell  him  of  Sigurd,  and  the  man  he  remembereth, 
And  praiseth  his  mighty  name  and  his  deeds  that  laughed  on  death. 

Now  dusk  and  dark  draw  over,  and  through  the  glimmering  house 

They  go  to  the  place  of  the  Niblungs,  the  high  hall  and  glorious ; 

For  hard  by  is  the  chamber  of  Sigurd  :  there  dight  in  their  harness  of  war 

In  their  thrones  sit  Gunnar  and  Hogni,  but  Guttorm  stands  on  the  floor 

With  his  blue  blade  naked  before  them :  the  torches  flare  from  the  wall 

And  the  woven  God-folk  waver,  but  the  hush  is  deep  in  the  hall, 

And  those  Niblung  faces  change  not,  though  the  slow  moon  slips  from  her 

And  earth  is  acold  ere  dawning,  and  new  winds  shake  the  night.      [height 

Now  it  was  in  the  earliest  dawn-dusk  that  Guttorm  stirred  in  his  place. 
And  the  mail-rings  tinkled  upon  him,  as  he  turned  his  helm-hid  face, 
And  went  forth  from  the  hall  and  the  high-seat ;  but  the  Kings  sat  still  in 
their  pride 
17 


258  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

And  hearkened  the  clash  of  his  going  and  heeded  how  it  died. 

Slow,  all  alone  goeth  Guttorm  to  Sigurd's  chamber  door, 

And  all  is  open  before  him,  and  the  white  moon  lies  on  the  floor 

And  the  bed  where  Sigurd  lieth  with  Gudrun  on  his  breast 

And  light  comes  her  breath  from  her  bosom  in  the  joy  of  infinite  rest. 

Then  Guttorm  stands  on  the  threshold,  and  his  heart  of  the  murder  is  fain^ 

And  he  thinks  of  the  deeds  of  Sigurd,  and  praiseth  his  greatness  and  gain  • 

Bright  blue  is  his  blade  in  the  moonlight  —  but  lo,  how  Sigurd  lies. 

As  the  carven  dead  that  die  not,  with  fair  wide-open  eyes  j 

And  their  glory  gleameth  on  Guttorm,  and  the  hate  in  his  heart  is  chilled. 

And  he  shrinketh  aback  from  the  threshold  and  knoweth  not  what  he  willed. 

But  his  brethren  heed  and  hearken,  and  they  hear  the  clash  draw  nigh, 
But  they  stir  no  whit  in  their  pride,  though  the  lord  of  all  creatures  should  die  j 
Then  they  see  where  cometh  Guttorm,  but  they  cast  him  never  a  word. 
For  white  'neath  the  flickering  torches  they  see  his  unstained  sword ; 
But  he  gazed  on  those  Kings  of  the  kindred,  and  the  beast  of  war  awoke ; 
And  his  heart  was  exceeding  wrathful  with  the  tarrying  of  the  stroke : 
And  he  strode  to  the  chamber  of  Sigurd,  and  again  they  heeded  well 
How  the  clash,  in  the  cloister  awakened,  by  the  threshold  died  and  fell. 

But  Guttorm  gazed  from  the  threshold,  and  the  moon  was  fading  away 
From  the  golden  bed  of  Sigurd,  and  the  Niblung  woman  lay 
On  the  bosom  of  the  Volsung,  and  her  hand  lay  light  on  her  lord ; 
But  dread  were  his  eyes  wide-open,  and  they  gleamed  against  the  sword, 
And  Guttorm  shrank  from  before  them,  and  back  to  the  hall  he  came : 
There  the  biding  brethren  behold  him  flash  wild  in  the  torches'  flame. 
Nor  stir  their  lips  to  question ;  but  their  swords  on  their  knees  are  laid ; 
The  torches  faint  in  the  dawning,  and  they  see  his  unstained  blade. 

Now  dieth  moon  and  candle,  and  though  the  day  be  nigh 
The  roof  of  the  hall  fair-builded  seems  far  aloof  as  the  sky. 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  259 

But  a  glimmer  grows  on  the  pavement  and  the  ernes  on  the  roof-ridge  stir  • 

Then  the  brethren  hist  and  hearken,  for  a  sound  of  feet  they  hear, 

And  into  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  a  white  thing  cometh  apace : 

But  the  sword  of  Guttorm  upriseth,  and  he  wendeth  from  his  place 

And  the  clash  of  steel  goes  with  him ;  yet  loud  as  it  may  sound 

Still  more  they  hear  those  footsteps  light-falling  on  the  ground, 

And  the  hearts  of  the  Niblungs  waver,  and  their  pride  is  smitten  acold, 

For  they  look  on  that  latest  comer,  and  Brynhild  they  behold : 

But  she  sits  by  their  side  in  silence,  and  heeds  them  nothing  more 

Than  the  grey  soft-footed  morning  heeds  yester-even's  war 

But  Guttorm  clashed  in  the  cloisters  and  through  the  silence  strode 

And  scarce  on  the  threshold  of  Sigurd  a  little  while  abode : 

There  the  moon  from  the  floor  hath  departed  and  heaven  without  is  grey, 

And  afar  in  the  eastern  quarter  faint  glimmer  streaks  of  day. 

Close  over  the  head  of  Sigurd  the  Wrath  gleams  wan  and  bare. 

And  the  Niblung  woman  stirreth,  and  her  brow  is  knit  with  fear ; 

But  the  King's  closed  eyes  are  hidden,  loose  lie  his  empty  hands. 

There  is  nought  'twixt  the  sword  of  the  slayer  and  the  Wonder  of  all  Lands* 

Then  Guttorm  laughed  in  his  war-rage,  and  his  sword  leapt  up  on  high, 

As  he  sprang  to  the  bed  from  the  threshold  and  cried  a  wordless  cry. 

And  with  all  the  might  of  the  Niblungs  through  Sigurd's  body  thrust. 

And  turned  and  fled  from  the  chamber,  and  fell  amid  the  dust, 

Within  the  door  and  without  it,  the  slayer  slain  by  the  slain ; 

For  the  cast  of  the  sword  of  Sigurd  had  smitten  his  body  atwain 

While  yet  his  cry  of  onset  through  the  echoing  chamber  went. 

Woe's  me  !  how  the  house  of  the  Niblungs  by  another  cry  was  rent, 
The  wakening  wail  of  Gudrun,  as  she  shrank  in  the  river  of  blood 
From  the  breast  of  the  mighty  Sigurd  :  he  heard  it  and  understood, 
And  rose  up  on  the  sword  of  Guttorm,  and  turned  from  the  country  of  death, 
And  spake  words  of  loving-kindness  as  he  strove  for  life  and  breath : 


26o  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

*Wail  not,  O  child  of  the  Niblungs  !  I  am  smitten,  but  thou  shalt  live, 
In  remembrance  of  our  glory,  mid  the  gifts  the  Gods  shall  give ! " 

She  stayed  her  cry  to  hearken,  and  her  heart  well  nigh  stood  still : 
But  he  spake  :  "  Mourn  not,  O  Gudrun,  this  stroke  is  the  last  of  ill ; 
Fear  leaveth  the  House  of  the  Niblungs  on  this  breaking  of  the  morn  y 
Mayst  thou  live,  O  woman  beloved,  unforsaken,  unforlorn  !  " 

Then  he  sank  aback  on  the  sword,  and  down  to  his  lips  she  bent     [spent  ^ 

If  some  sound  therefrom  she  might  hearken  j  for  his  breath  was  well-nigh 

"  It  is  Brynhild's  deed,"  he  murmured,  "  and  the  woman  that  loves  me  well  \ 

Nought  now  is  left  to  repent  of,  and  the  tale  abides  to  tell. 

I  have  done  many  deeds  in  my  life-days,  and  all  these,  and  my  love,  they  lie 

In  the  hollow  hand  of  Odin  till  the  day  of  the  world  go  by. 

I  have  done  and  I  may  not  undo,  I  have  given  and  I  take  not  again : 

Art  thou  other  than  I,  Allf  ather,  wilt  thou  gather  my  glory  in  vain  ? " 

There  was  silence  then  in  the  chamber,  as  the  dawn  spread  wide  and  grey. 
And  hushed  was  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  at  the  entering-in  of  day. 
Long  Gudrun  hung  o'er  the  Volsung  and  waited  the  coming  word ; 
Then  she  stretched  out  her  hand  to  Sigurd  and  touched  her  love  and  her  lord, 
And  the  broad  day  fell  on  his  visage,  and  she  knew  she  was  there  alone, 
And  her  heart  was  wrung  with  anguish  and  she  uttered  a  weary  moan : 
Then  Brynhild  laughed  in  the  hall,  and  the  first  of  men's  voices  was  that 
Since  when  on  yester-even  the  kings  in  the  high-seat  had  sat. 

But  the  wrath  of  Gunnar  was  kindled  and  the  words  of  the  king  out-brake, 
"  Woe's  me,  thou  wonder  of  women !  thou  art  glad  for  no  man's  sake, 
Nay  not  for  thine  own,  meseemeth,  for  thou  bidest  here  as  the  dead, 
As  the  pale  ones  stricken  deedless,  whose  tale  of  life  is  sped." 

She  hearkened  him  not  nor  answered ;  and  day  came  on  apace, 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  261 

And  they  heard  the  anguish  of  Gudrun  and  her  voice  in  the  ancient  place. 

"  Awake,  O  House  of  the  Niblungs  !  for  my  kin  have  slain  my  lord. 

Awake,  awake,  to  the  murder,  and  the  edges  of  the  sword ! 

Awake,  go  forth  and  be  merry !  and  yet  shall  the  day  betide. 

When  ye  stand  in  the  garth  of  the  foemen,  and  death  is  on  every  side, 

And  ye  look  about  and  around  you,  and  right  and  left  ye  look 

For  the  least  of  the  hours  of  Sigurd,  and  his  hand  that  the  battle  shook : 

Then  be  your  hope  as  mine  is,  then  face  ye  death  and  shame 

As  I  face  the  desolation,  and  the  days  without  a  name  ! " 

And  she  shrieked  as  the  woe  gathered  on  her,  and  the  sun  rose  over  her  head 
"  Wake,  wake,  O  men  of  this  house,  for  Sigurd  the  Volsung  is  dead ! " 

In  the  house  rose  rumour  and  stir,  and  men  stood  up  in  the  morn. 

And  their  hearts  with  doubt  were  shaken,  as  if  with  the  Uttermost  Horn : 

The  cry  and  the  calling  spread,  and  shields  clashed  down  from  the  wall. 

And  swords  in  the  chamber  glittered,  and  men  ran  apace  to  the  hall. 

Nor  knew  what  man  to  question,  nor  who  had  tidings  to  give. 

Nor  what  were  the  days  thenceforward  wherein  the  folk  should  live. 

But  ever  the  word  is  amongst  them  that  Sigurd  the  Volsung  is  slain. 

And  the  spears  in  the  hall  were  tossing  as  the  rye  in  the  windy  plain. 

But  they  look  aloft  to  the  high-seat  and  they  see  the  gleam  of  the  gold : 

And  Gunnar  the  King  of  battle,  and  Hogni  wise  and  cold. 

And  Brynhild  the  wonder  of  women ;  and  her  face  is  deadly  pale. 

And  the  Kings  are  clad  in  their  war-gear,  and  bared  are  the  edges  of  bale, 

Then  cold  fear  falleth  upon  them,  but  the  noise  and  the  clamour  abate  ' 

And  they  look  on  the  war-wise  Gunnar  and  awhile  for  his  word  they  wait 

But  e'en  as  he  riseth  above  them,  doth  a  shriek  through  the  tumult  ring : 

•'  Awake,  O  House  of  the  Niblungs,  for  slain  is  Sigurd  the  King ! " 

Then  nothing  faltered  Gunnar,  but  he  stood  o'er  the  Niblung  folk, 


262  THE  STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  over  the  hall  woe-stricken  the  words  of  pride  he  spoke : 

"  Mourn  now,  O  Niblung  people,  for  gone  is  Sigurd  our  guest, 
And  Guttorm  the  King  is  departed,  and  this  is  our  day  of  unrest ; 
But  all  this  of  the  Norns  was  fore-ordered,  and  herein  is  Odin's  hand ; 
Cast  down  are  the  mighty  of  men-folk,  but  the  Niblung  house  shall  stand . 
Mourn  then  today  and  tomorrow,  but  the  third  day  waken  and  live 
For  the  Gods  died  not  this  morning,  and  great  gifts  they  have  to  give." 

He  spake  and  awhile  was  silence,  and  then  did  the  cry  outbreak, 

And  many  there  were  of  the  Earl-folk  that  wept  for  Sigurd's  sake ; 

And  they  wept  for  their  little  children,  and  they  wept  for  those  unborn, 

Who  should  know  the  earth  without  him  and  the  world  of  his  worth  forlorn. 

But  wild  is  the  wailing  of  women  as  they  fare  to  the  place  of  the  dead, 

Where  cold  is  Gudrun  sitting  mid  the  waste  of  Sigurd's  bed. 

Then  they  take  the  man  belovbd,  and  bear  him  forth  to  the  hall, 

And  spread  the  linen  above  him,  and  cloth  of  purple  and  pall  j 

And  meekly  Gudrun  foUoweth,  and  she  sitteth  down  thereby, 

But  mute  is  her  mouth  henceforward,  and  she  giveth  forth  no  cry, 

And  no  word  of  lamentation,  though  far  abroad  they  weep 

For  the  gift  of  the  Gods  departed,  and  the  golden  Sigurd's  sleep. 

Meanwhile  elsewhere  the  women  and  the  wives  of  the  Niblungs  wail 
O'er  the  body  of  King  Guttorm  and  array  him  for  the  bale, 
And  Grimhild  opens  her  treasure  and  bears  forth  plenteous  gold 
And  goodly  things  for  his  journey,  and  the  land  of  Death  acold. 

So  rent  is  the  joy  of  the  Niblungs  ;  and  their  simple  days  and  fain 
From  that  ancient  house  are  departed,  and  who  shall  buy  them  again  ? 
For  he,  the  redeemer,  the  helper,  the  crown  of  all  their  worth. 
They  looked  upon  him  and  wondered,  they  loved,  and  they  thrust  him  forth 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  263 


Of  the  mighty  Grief  of  Gudrun  over  Sigurd  dead. 

Of  old  in  the  days  past  over  was  Gudrun  blent  with  the  dead 
As  she  sat  in  measureless  sorrow  o'er  Sigurd's  wasted  bed, 
But  no  sigh  came  from  her  bosom,  nor  smote  she  hand  in  hand. 
Nor  wailed  with  the  other  women,  and  the  daughters  of  the  land ; 
Then  the  wise  of  the  Earls  beheld  her,  smit  cold  with  her  dread  intent, 
And  they  rose  one  after  other,  and  before  the  Queen  they  went ; 
Men  ancient,  men  mighty  in  battle,  men  sweet  of  speech  were  there. 
And  they  loved  her,  and  entreated,  and  spake  good  words  to  hear : 
But  no  tears  and  no  lamenting  in  Gudrun's  heart  would  strive 
With  the  deadly  chill  of  sorrow  that  none  may  bear  and  live. 

Now  there  were  the  King-folk's  daughters,  and  wives  of  the  Earls  of  war, 

The  fair,  and  the  noble-hearted,  the  wise  in  ancient  lore ; 

And  they  rose  one  after  other,  and  stood  before  the  Queen 

To  tell  of  their  woes  past  over,  and  the  worst  their  eyes  had  seen : 

There  was  Giaflaug,  Giuki's  sister,  she  was  old  and  stark  to  see, 

And  she  said : 

"  O  heavyhearted,  they  slew  my  King  from  me  : 
Look  up,  O  child  of  the  Niblungs,  and  hearken  mournful  things 
Of  the  woes  of  living  man-folk  and  the  daughters  of  the  Kings  1 
Dead  now  is  the  last  of  my  brethren ;  to  the  dead  my  sister  went ; 
My  son  and  my  little  daughter  in  the  earliest  days  were  spent : 
On  the  earth  am  I  living  loveless,  long  past  are  the  happy  days, 
They  lie  with  things  departed  and  vain  and  foolish  praise, 
And  the  hopes  of  hapless  people  :  yet  I  sit  with  the  people's  lords 
When  men  are  hushed  to  hearken  the  least  of  all  my  words.  [wrought, 

What  else  is  the  wont  of  the  Niblungs  ?  why  else  by  the  Gods  were  they 
Save  to  wear  down  lamentation,  and  make  all  sorrow  nought  ? " 

No  word  of  woe  gat  Gudrun,  nor  had  she  will  to  weep. 


264  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Such  weight  of  woe  was  on  her  for  the  golden  Sigurd's  sleep  : 
Her  heart  was  cold  and  dreadful ;  nor  good  from  ill  she  knew 
For  the  love  they  had  taken  from  her,  and  the  day  with  nought  to  do. 

Then  troth-plight  maids  forsaken,  and  never-wedded  ones, 

And  they  that  mourned  dead  husbands  and  the  hope  of  unborn  sons, 

These  told  of  their  bitterest  trouble  and  the  worst  their  eyes  had  seen ; 

"  Yet  all  we  live  to  love  thee,  and  the  glory  of  the  Queen. 

Look  up,  look  up  O  Gudrun  !  what  rest  for  them  that  wail 

If  the  Queens  of  men  shall  tremble,  and  the  God-kin  faint  and  fail  ? " 

No  voice  gat  Gudrun's  sorrow,  no  care  she  had  to  weep ; 
For  the  deeds  of  the  day  she  knew  not,  nor  the  dreams  of  Sigurd's  sleep . 
Her  heart  was  cold  and  dreadful ;  nor  good  from  ill  she  knew. 
Because  of  her  love  departed,  and  the  day  with  nought  to  do. 

Then  spake  a  Queen  of  Welshland,  and  Herborg  hight  was  she : 

"  O  frozen  heart  of  sorrow,  the  Norns  dealt  worse  with  me  : 

Of  old,  in  the  days  departed,  were  my  brave  ones  under  shield, 

Seven  sons,  and  the  eighth,  my  husband,  and  they  fell  in  the  Southland  field 

Yet  lived  my  father  and  mother,  yet  lived  my  brethren  four. 

And  I  bided  their  returning  by  the  sea-washed  bitter  shore : 

But  the  winds  and  death  played  with  them,  o'er  the  wide  sea  swept  the  wave. 

The  billows  beat  on  the  bulwarks  and  took  what  the  battle  gave  : 

Alone  I  sang  above  them,  alone  I  dight  their  gear 

For  the  uttermost  journey  of  all  men,  in  the  harvest  of  the  year : 

Nor  wakened  spring  from  winter  ere  I  left  those  early  dead  ; 

With  bound  hands  and  shameful  body  I  went  as  the  sea-thieves  led  : 

Now  I  sit  by  the  hearth  of  a  stranger ;  nor  have  I  weal  nor  woe. 

Save  the  hope  of  the  Niblung  masters  and  the  sorrow  of  a  foe." 

No  wailing  word  gat  Gudrun,  no  thought  she  had  to  weep 

O'er  the  sundering  tide  of  Sigurd,  and  the  loved  lord's  lonely  sleep  : 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  265 

Her  heart  was  cd.d  and  dreadful;  nor  good  from  ill  she  knew, 
Since  her  love  was  taken  from  her  and  the  day  of  deeds  to  do. 

Then  arose  a  maid  of  the  Niblungs,  and  GuUrond  was  her  name, 

And  betwixt  that  Queen  of  Welshland  and  Gudrun's  grief  she  came : 

And  she  said :  "  O  foster-mother,  O  wise  in  the  wisdom  of  old, 

Hast  thou  spoken  a  word  to  the  dead,  and  known  them  hear  and  behold  ? 

E'en  so  is  this  word  thou  speakest,  and  the  counsel  of  thy  face.'' 

[place, 
All  heed  gave  the  maids  and  the  warriors,  and  hushed  was  the  spear-thronged 
As  she  stretched  out  her  hand  to  Sigurd,  and  swept  the  linen  away  [day ; 
From  the  lips  that  had  holpen  the  people,  and  the  eyes  that  had  gladdened  the 
She  set  her  hand  unto  Sigurd,  and  turned  the  face  of  the  dead 
To  the  moveless  knees  of  Gudrun,  and  again  she  spake  and  said : 

"  O  Gudrun,  look  on  thy  loved-one ;  yea,  as  if  he  were  living  yet 

Let  his  face  by  thy  face  be  cherished,  and  thy  lips  on  his  lips  be  set !  " 

Then  Gudrun's  eyes  fell  on  it,  and  she  saw  the  bright  one's  hair 

All  wet  with  the  deadly  dew-fall,  and  she  saw  the  great  eyes  stare 

At  that  cloudy  roof  of  the  Niblungs  without  a  smile  or  frown ; 

And  she  saw  the  breast  of  the  mighty  and  the  heart's  wall  rent  adown : 

She  gazed  and  the  woe  gathered  on  her,  so  exceeding  far  away 

Seemed  all  she  once  had  cherished  from  that  which  near  her  lay ; 

She  gazed,  and  it  craved  no  pity,  and  therein  was  nothing  sad, 

Therein  was  clean  forgotten  the  hope  that  Sigurd  had  : 

Then  she  looked  around  and  about  her,  as  though  her  friend  to  find, 

And  met  those  woeful  faces  but  as  grey  reeds  in  the  wind. 

And  she  turned  to  the  King  beneath  her  and  raised  her  hands  on  high, 

And  fell  on  the  body  of  Sigurd  with  a  great  and  bitter  cry ; 

All  else  in  the  house  kept  silence,  and  she  as  one  alone 

Spared  not  in  that  kingly  dwelling  to  wail  aloud  and  moan ; 

And  the  sound  of  her  lamentation  the  peace  of  the  Niblungs  rent, 


266  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

While  the  restless  birds  in  the  wall-nook  their  song  to  the  green  leaves  sent  j 
And  the  geese  in  the  home-mead  wandering  clanged  out  beneath  the  sun  j 
For  now  was  the  day's  best  hour,  and  its  loveliest  tide  begun. 

Long  Gudrun  lay  on  Sigurd,  and  her  tears  fell  fast  on  the  floor 
As  the  rain  in  midmost  April  when  the  winter-tide  is  o'er, 
Till  she  heard  a  wail  anigh  her  and  how  Gullrond  wept  beside, 
Then  she  knew  the  voice  of  her  pity,  and  rose  upright  and  cried  : 

"  O  ye,  e'en  such  was  my  Sigurd  among  these  Giuki's  sons. 

As  the  hart  with  the  horns  day-brightened  mid  the  forest-creeping  ones ; 

As  the  spear-leek  fraught  with  wisdom  mid  the  lowly  garden  grass ; 

As  the  gem  on  the  gold  band's  midmost  when  the  council  cometh  to  pass, 

And  the  King  is  lit  with  its  glory,  and  the  people  wonder  and  praise. 

—  O  people,  Ah  thy  craving  for  the  least  of  my  Sigurd's  days ! 

O  wisdom  of  my  Sigurd !  how  oft  I  sat  with  thee, 

Thou  striver,  thou  deliverer,  thou  hope  of  things  to  be ! 

O  might  of  my  love,  my  Sigurd  !  how  oft  I  sat  by  thy  side, 

And  was  praised  for  the  loftiest  woman  and  the  best  of  Odin's  pride  ! 

But  now  am  I  as  little  as  the  leaf  on  the  lone  tree  left. 

When  the  winter  wood  is  shaken  and  the  sky  by  the  North  is  cleft." 

Then  her  speech  grew  wordless  wailing,  and  no  man  her  meaning  knew ; 
Till  she  hushed  her  swift  and  turned  her;  for  a  laugh  her  wail  pierced 

through. 
As  a  whistling  shaft  the  night-wind  in  some  foe-encompassed  wood ; 
And  lo,  by  the  nearest  pillar  the  wife  of  Gunnar  stood ; 
There  stood  the  allwise  Brynhild  'gainst  the  golden  carving  pressed, 
As  she  stared  at  the  wound  of  Sigurd  and  that  rending  of  his  breast : 
But  she  felt  the  place  fallen  silent,  and  the  speechless  anger  set 
On  her  own  chill,  bitter  sorrow ;  and  the  eyes  of  the  women  met, 
And  they  stood  in  the  hall  together,  as  they  stood  that  while  ago. 
When  they  twain  in  Brynhild's  dwelling  of  days  to  come  would  know : 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  267 

But  every  soul  kept  silence,  and  all  hearts  were  chill  as  stone 
As  Brynhild  spake : 

"  Thou  woman,  shall  thine  eyes  be  wet  alone  ? 
Shalt  thou  weep  and  speak  in  thy  glory,  when  I  may  weep  no  more, 
When  I  speak,  and  my  speech  is  as  silence  to  the  man  that  loved  me  sore  ? " 

Then  folk  heard  the  woe  of  Gudrun,  and  the  bitterness  of  hate : 

"  Day  cursed  o'er  every  other !  when  they  opened  wide  the  gate, 

And  Kings  in  gold  arrayed  them,  and  all  men  the  joy  might  hear, 

As  Greyfell  neighed  in  the  forecourt  the  world's  delight  to  bear. 

And  my  brethren  shook  the  world-ways  as  they  rode  to  Brynhild's  bower, 

—  An  ill  day  —  an  evil  woman  —  a  most  untimely  hour !  " 

But  she  wailed :  **  The  seat  is  empty,  and  empty  is  the  bed. 

And  earth  is  hushed  henceforward  of  the  words  my  speech-friend  said ! 

Lo,  the  deeds  of  the  sons  of  Giuki,  and  my  brethren  of  one  womb ! 

Lo,  the  deeds  of  the  sons  of  Giuki  for  the  latter  days  of  doom ! 

O  hearken,  hearken  Gunnar !     May  the  dear  Gold  drag  thee  adown, 

And  Greyfell's  ruddy  Burden,  and  the  Treasure  of  renown. 

And  the  rings  that  ye  swore  the  oath  on !  yea,  if  all  avengers  die. 

May  Earth,  that  ye  bade  remember,  on  the  blood  of  Sigurd  cry ! 

Be  this  land  as  waste  as  the  trothplight  that  the  lips  of  fools  have  sworn ! 

May  it  rain  through  this  broken  hall-roof,  and  snow  on  the  hearth  forlorn  I 

And  may  no  man  draw  anigh  it  to  tell  of  the  ruin  and  the  wrack ! 

Yea,  may  I  be  a  mock  for  the  idle  if  my  feet  come  ever  aback. 

If  my  heart  think  kind  of  the  chambers,  if  mine  eyes  shall  yearn  to  behold 

The  fair-built  house  of  my  fathers,  the  house  beloved  of  old ! " 

Then  she  waileth  out  before  them,  and  hideth  her  face  from  the  day. 
And  she  casteth  her  down  from  the  high-seat  and  fleeth  fast  away ; 
And  forth  from  the  Hall  of  the  Niblungs,  and  forth  from  the  Burg  is  she  gone, 
And  forth  from  the  holy  dwellings,  and  a  long  way  forth  alone, 
Till  she  comes  to  the  lonely  wood-waste,  the  desert  of  the  deer 


268  TIfE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

By  the  feet  of  the  lonely  mountains,  that  no  man  draweth  anear ; 

But  the  wolves  are  about  and  around  her,  and  death  seems  better  than  life, 

And  folding  the  hands  and  forgetting  a  merrier  thing  than  strife ; 

And  for  long  and  long  thereafter  no  man  of  Gudrun  knows. 

Nor  who  are  the  friends  of  her  life-days,  nor  whom  she  calleth  her  foes. 

But  how  great  in  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  is  the  voice  of  weeping  and  wail  I 

Men  bide  on  the  noon's  departing,  men  bide  till  the  eve  shall  fail, 

Then  they  wend  one  after  other  to  the  sleep  that  all  men  win, 

Till  few  are  the  hall-abiders,  and  the  moon  is  white  therein, 

And  no  sound  in  the  house  may  ye  hearken  save  the  ernes  that  stir  o*erhead, 

And  the  far-off  wail  o'er  Guttorm  and  the  wakeners  o'er  the  dead : 

But  still  by  the  carven  pillar  doth  the  all-wise  Brynhild  stand 

A-gaze  on  the  wound  of  Sigurd,  nor  moveth  foot  nor  hand. 

Nor  speaketh  word  to  any,  of  them  that  come  or  go 

Round  the  evil  deed  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  corner-stone  of  woe. 


Of  the  passing  away  of  Brynhild. 

Once  more  on  the  morrow-morning  fair  shineth  the  glorious  sun, 
And  the  Niblung  children  labour  on  a  deed  that  shall  be  done. 
For  out  in  the  people's  meadows  they  raise  a  bale  on  high. 
The  oak  and  the  ash  together,  and  thereon  shall  the  Mighty  lie ; 
Nor  gold  nor  steel  shall  be  lacking,  nor  savour  of  sweet  spice. 
Nor  cloths  in  the  Southlands  woven,  nor  webs  of  untold  price : 
The  work  grows,  toil  is  as  nothing ;  long  blasts  of  the  mighty  horn 
From  the  topmost  tower  out-wailing  o'er  the  woeful  world  are  borne. 

But  Brynhild  lay  in  her  chamber,  and  her  women  went  and  came. 
And  they  feared  and  trembled  before  her,  and  none  spake  Sigurd's  name  \ 
But  whiles  they  deemed  her  weeping,  and  whiles  they  deemed  indeed 
That  she  spake,  if  they  might  but  hearken,  but  no  words  their  ears  might  heed  j 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  26q 

Till  at  last  she  spake  out  clearly : 

"  I  know  not  what  ye  would ; 
For  ye  come  and  go  in  my  chamber,  and  ye  seem  of  wavering  mood 
To  thrust  me  on,  or  to  stay  me ;  to  help  my  heart  in  woe. 
Or  to  bid  my  days  of  sorrow  midst  nameless  folly  go." 

None  answered  the  word  of  Brynhild,  none  knew  of  her  intent  j 
But  she  spake :  "  Bid  hither  Gunnar,  lest  the  sun  sink  o'er  the  bent, 
And  leave  the  words  unspoken  I  yet  have  will  to  speak." 

Then  her  maidens  go  from  before  her,  and  that  lord  of  war  they  seek, 
And  he  stands  by  the  bed  of  Brynhild  and  strives  to  entreat  and  beseech, 
But  her  eyes  gaze  awfully  on  him,  and  his  lips  may  learn  no  speech. 
And  she  saith : 

"  I  slept  in  the  morning,  or  I  dreamed  in  the  waking-hour. 
And  my  dream  was  of  thee,  O  Gunnar,  and  the  bed  in  thy  kingly  bower. 
And  the  house  that  I  blessed  in  my  sorrow,  and  cursed  in  my  sorrow  and 
The  gates  of  an  ancient  people,  the  towers  of  a  mighty  name :  [shame, 

King,  cold  was  the  hall  I  have  dwelt  in,  and  no  brand  burned  on  the  hearth ; 
Dead-cold  was  thy  bed,   O  Gunnar,  and  thy  land  was  parched  with  dearth : 
But  I  saw  a  great  King  riding,  and  a  master  of  the  harp, 
And  he  rode  amidst  of  the  foemen,  and  the  swords  were  bitter-sharp, 
But  his  hand  in  the  hand-gyves  smote  not,  and  his  feet  in  the  fetters  were  fast. 
While  many  a  word  of  mocking  at  his  speechless  face  was  cast. 
Then  I  heard  a  voice  in  the  world  :  *  O  woe  for  the  broken  troth, 
And  the  heavy  Need  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  Sorrow  of  Odin  the  Goth ! 
Then  I  saw  the  halls  of  the  strangers,  and  the  hills,  and  the  dark-blue  sea, 
Nor  knew  of  their  names  and  their  nations,  for  earth  was  afar  from  me. 
But  brother  rose  up  against  brother,  and  blood  swam  over  the  board, 
And  women  smote  and  spared  not,  and  the  fire  was  master  and  lord. 
Then,  then  was  the  moonless  mid-mirk,  and  I  woke  to  the  day  and  the  deed, 
The  deed  that  earth  shall  name  not,  the  day  of  its  bitterest  need. 
Many  words  have  I  said  in  my  life-days,  and  little  more  shall  I  say : 


ajo  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Ye  have  heard  the  dream  of  a  woman,  deal  with  it  as  ye  may : 

For  meseems  the  world-ways  sunder,  and  the  dusk  and  the  dark  is  mine, 

Till  I  come  to  the  hall  of  Freyia,  where  the  deeds  of  the  mighty  shall  shine.' " 

So  hearkened  Gunnar  the  Niblung,  that  her  words  he  understood, 
And  he  knew  she  was  set  on  the  death-stroke,  and  he  deemed  it  nothing  good : 
But  he  said :  "  I  have  hearkened,  and  heeded  thy  death  and  mine  in  thy  words : 
I  have  done  the  deed  and  abide  it,  and  my  face  shall  laugh  on  the  swords , 
But  thee,  woman,  I  bid  thee  abide  here  till  thy  grief  of  soul  abate ; 
Meseems  nought  lowly  nor  shameful  shall  be  the  Niblung  fate ;  [Gold, 

And  here  shalt  thou  rule  and  be  mighty,  and  be  queen  of  the  measureless 
And  abase  the  kings  and  upraise  them ;  and  anew  shall  thy  fame  be  told, 
And  as  fair  shall  thy  glory  blossom  as  the  fresh  fields  under  the  spring." 

Then  he  casteth  his  arms  about  her,  and  hot  is  the  heart  of  the  King 

For  the  glory  of  Queen  Brynhild  and  the  hope  of  her  days  of  gain, 

And  he  clean  forgetteth  Sigurd  and  the  foster-brother  slain : 

But  she  shrank  aback  from  before  him,  and  cried :  "  Woe  worth  the  while 

For  the  thoughts  ye  drive  back  on  me,  and  the  memory  of  your  guile ! 

The  Kings  of  earth  were  gathered,  the  wise  of  men  were  met ; 

On  the  death  of  a  woman's  pleasure  their  glorious  hearts  were  set, 

And  I  was  alone  amidst  them  —  Ah,  hold  thy  peace  hereof ! 

Lest  the  thought  of  the  bitterest  hours  this  little  hour  should  move." 

He  rose  abashed  from  before  her,  and  yet  he  lingered  there ; 

Then  she  said  :  "  O  King  of  the  Niblungs,  what  noise  do  I  hearken  and  hear? 

Why  ring  the  axes  and  hammers,  while  feet  of  men  go  past, 

And  shields  from  the  wall  are  shaken,  and  swords  on  the  pavement  cast, 

And  the  door  of  the  treasure  is  open,  and  the  horn  cries  loud  and  long, 

And  the  feet  of  the  Niblung  children  to  the  people's  meadows  throng? '' 

His  face  was  troubled  before  her,  and  again  she  spake  and  said  : 
'  Meseemeth  this  is  the  hour  when  men  array  the  dead ; 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  271 

Wilt  thou  tell  me  tidings,  Gunnar,  that  the  children  of  thy  folk 
Pile  up  the  bale  for  Guttorm,  and  the  hand  that  smote  the  stroke  ? " 

He  said :  "  It  is  not  so,  Brynhild  ;  for  that  Giuki's  son  was  burned 
When  the  moon  of  the  middle  heaven  last  night  toward  dawning  turned." 

They  looked  on  each  other  and  spake  not ;  but  Gunnar  gat  him  gone, 
And  came  to  his  brother  Hogni,  the  wise-heart  Giuki's  son, 
And  spake  :  "  Thou  art  wise,  O  Hogni  j  go  in  to  Brynhild  the  queen, 
And  stay  her  swift  departing ;  or  the  last  of  her  days  hath  she  seen." 

"  It  is  nought,  thy  word,"  said  Hogni ;  "  wilt  thou  bring  dead  men  aback, 

Or  the  souls  of  kings  departed  midst  the  battle  and  the  wrack  ? 

Yet  this  shall  be  easier  to  thee  than  the  turning  Brynhild's  heart ; 

She  came  to  dwell  among  us,  but  in  us  she  had  no  part; 

Let  her  go  her  ways  from  the  Niblungs  with  her  hand  in  Sigurd's  hand. 

Will  the  grass  grow  up  henceforward  where  her  feet  have  trodden  the  land  ? ' 

"  O  evil  day,"  said  Gunnar,  "When  my  queen  must  perish  and  die ! " 

*'  Such  oft  betide,"  saith  Hogni,  " as  the  lives  of  men  flit  by; 

But  the  evil  day  is  a  day,  and  on  each  day  groweth  a  deed. 

And  a  thing  that  never  dieth ;  and  the  fateful  tale  shall  speed. 

Lo  now,  let  us  harden  our  hearts  and  set  our  brows  as  the  brass. 

Lest  men  say  it,  '  They  loathed  the  evil  and  they  brought  the  evil  to  pass.'  " 

So  they  spake,  and  their  hearts  were  heavy,  and  they  longed  for  the  morrow 

morn, 
And  the  morrow  of  tomorrow,  and  the  new  day  yet  to  be  born. 

But  Brynhild  cried  to  her  maidens  :  "  Now  open  ark  and  chest. 

And  draw  forth  queenly  raiment  of  the  loveliest  and  the  best. 

Red  rings  that  the  Dwarf-lords  fashioned,  fair  cloths  that  queens  have  sewed 


272  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

To  array  the  bride  for  the  mighty,  and  the  traveller  for  the  road." 

They  wept  as  they  wrought  her  bidding  and  did  on  her  goodliest  gear , 
But  she  laughed  mid  the  dainty  linen,  and  the  gold-rings  fashioned  fair : 
She  arose  from  the  bed  of  the  Niblungs,  and  her  face  no  more  was  wan ; 
As  a  star  in  the  dawn-tide  heavens,  mid  the  dusky  house  she  shone : 
And  they  that  stood  about  her,  their  hearts  were  raised  aloft 
Amid  their  fear  and  wonder :  then  she  spake  them  kind  and  soft : 

"  Now  give  me  the  sword,  O  maidens,  wherewith  I  sheared  the  wind 
When  the  Kings  of  Earth  were  gathered  to  know  the  Chooser's  mind." 

All  sheathed  the  maidens  brought  it,  and  feared  the  hidden  blade, 

But  the  naked  blue-white  edges  across  her  knees  she  laid, 

And  spake :  "  The  heaped-up  riches,  the  gear  my  fathers  left, 

All  dear-bought  woven  wonders,  all  rings  from  battle  reft, 

All  goods  of  men  desired,  now  strew  them  on  the  floor, 

And  so  share  among  you,  maidens,  the  gifts  of  Brynhild's  store." 

They  brought  them  mid  their  weeping,  but  none  put  forth  a  hand 

To  take  that  wealth  desired,  the  spoils  of  many  a  land  : 

There  they  stand  and  weep  before  her,  and  some  are  moved  to  speech. 

And  they  cast  their  arms  about  her  and  strive  with  her,  and  beseech 

That  she  look  on  her  loved-ones'  sorrow  and  the  glory  of  the  day. 

It  was  nought ;  she  scarce  might  see  them,  and  she  put  their  hands  away 

And  she  said :  "  Peace,  ye  that  love  me !  and  take  the  gifts  and  the  gold 

In  remembrance  of  my  fathers  and  the  faithful  deeds  of  old." 

Then  she  spake :  "  Where  now  is  Gunnar,  that  I  may  speak  with  him  ? 
For  new  things  are  mine  eyes  beholding  and  the  Niblung  house  grows  dim, 
And  new  sounds  gather  about  me,  that  may  hinder  me  to  speak 
When  the  breath  is  near  to  fitting,  and  the  voice  is  waxen  weak." 


BOOK   III.     BRYNHILD.  273 

Then  upright  by  the  bed  of  the  Niblungs  for  a  moment  doth  she  stand, 
And  the  blade  flasheth  bright  in  the  chamber,  but  no  more  they  hinder  her 
Than  if  a  God  were  smiting  to  rend  the  world  in  two  :  [hand 

Then  dulled  are  the  glittering  edges,  and  the  bitter  point  cleaves  through 
The  breast  of  the  all-wise  Brynhild,  and  her  feet  from  the  pavement  fail, 
And  the  sigh  of  her  heart  is  hearkened  mid  the  hush  of  the  maidens'  wail. 
Chill,  deep  is  the  fear  upon  them,  but  they  bring  her  aback  to  the  bed. 
And  her  hand  is  yet  on  the  hilts,  and  sidelong  droopeth  her  head. 

Then  there  cometh  a  cry  from  withoutward,  and  Gunnar's  hurrying  feet 
Are  swift  on  the  kingly  threshold,  and  Brjmhild's  blood  they  meet. 
Low  down  o'er  the  bed  he  hangeth  and  hearkeneth  for  her  word, 
And  her  heavy  lids  are  opened  to  look  on  the  Niblung  lord. 
And  she  saith : 

"  I  pray  thee  a  prayer,  the  last  word  in  the  world  I  speak, 
That  ye  bear  me  forth  to  Sigurd,  and  the  hand  my  hand  would  seek ; 
The  bale  for  the  dead  is  builded,  it  is  wrought  full  wide  on  the  plain, 
It  is  raised  for  Earth's  best  Helper,  and  thereon  is  room  for  twain : 
Ye  have  hung  the  shields  about  it,  and  the  Southland  hangings  spread, 
There  lay  me  adown  by  Sigurd  and  my  head  beside  his  head : 
But  ere  ye  leave  us  sleeping,  draw  his  Wrath  from  out  the  sheath. 
And  lay  that  Light  of  the  Branstock,  and  the  blade  that  frighted  death 
Betwixt  my  side  and  Sigurd's,  as  it  lay  that  while  agone, 
When  once  in  one  bed  together  we  twain  were  laid  alone : 
How  then  when  the  flames  flare  upward  may  I  be  left  behind  ? 
How  then  may  the  road  he  wendeth  be  hard  for  my  feet  to  find  ? 
How  then  in  the  gates  of  Valhall  may  the  door  of  the  gleaming  ring 
Clash  to  on  the  heel  of  Sigurd,  as  I  follow  on  my  king  ? " 

Then  she  raised  herself  on  her  elbow,  but  again  her  eyelids  sank. 
And  the  wound  by  the  sword-edge  whispered,  as  her  heart  from  the  iron 
And  she  moaned:  "O  lives  of  man-folk,  for  unrest  all  overlong      [shrank, 
By  the  Father  were  ye  fashioned ;  and  what  hope  amendeth  wrong  ? 
18 


274  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Now  at  last,  O  my  belovbd,  all  is  gone ;  none  else  is  near, 
Through  the  ages  of  all  ages,  never  sundered,  shall  we  wear." 

Scarce  more  than  a  sigh  was  the  word,  as  back  on  the  bed  she  fell. 
Nor  was  there  need  in  the  chamber  of  the  passing  of  Brynhild  to  tell  j 
And  no  more  their  lamentation  might  the  maidens  hold  aback. 
But  the  sound  of  their  bitter  mourning  was  as  if  red-handed- wrack 
Ran  wild  in  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  fire  were  master  of  all. 

Then  the  voice  of  Gunnar  the  war-king  cried  out  o'er  the  weeping  hall : 

"  Wail  on,  O  women  forsaken,  for  the  mightiest  woman  born  ! 

Now  the  hearth  is  cold  and  joyless,  and  the  waste  bed  lieth  forlorn. 

Wail  on,  but  amid  your  weeping  lay  hand  to  the  glorious  dead, 

That  not  alone  for  an  hour  may  lie  Queen  Brynhild's  head  : 

For  here  have  been  heavy  tidings,  and  the  Mightiest  under  shield 

Is  laid  on  the  bale  high-builded  in  the  Niblungs'  hallowed  field. 

Fare  forth  !  for  he  abideth,  and  we  do  Allfather  wrong. 

If  the  shining  Valhall's  pavement  await  their  feet  o'erlong." 

Then  they  took  the  body  of  Brynhild  in  the  raiment  that  she  wore, 
And  out  through  the  gate  of  the  Niblungs  the  holy  corpse  they  bore, 
And  thence  forth  to  the  mead  of  the  people,  and  the  high-built  shielded  bale 
Then  afresh  in  the  open  meadows  breaks  forth  the  women's  wail 
When  they  see  the  bed  of  Sigurd  and  the  glittering  of  his  gear ; 
And  fresh  is  the  wail  of  the  people  as  Brynhild  draweth  anear, 
And  the  tidings  go  before  her  that  for  twain  the  bale  is  built, 
That  for  twain  is  the  oak-wood  shielded  and  the  pleasant  odours  spilt. 

There  is  peace  on  the  bale  of  Sigurd,  and  the  Gods  look  down  from  on  high, 
And  they  see  the  lids  of  the  Volsung  close  shut  against  the  sky. 
As  he  lies  with  his  shield  beside  him  in  the  Hauberk  all  of  gold, 
That  has  not  its  like  in  the  heavens,  nor  has  earth  of  its  fellow  told ; 
And  forth  from  the  Helm  of  Aweing  are  the  sunbeams  flashing  wide. 


BOOK  III.     BRYNHILD.  275 

And  the  sheathbd  Wrath  of  Sigurd  lies  still  by  his  mighty  side. 

Then  cometh  an  elder  of  days,  a  man  of  the  ancient  times, 

Who  is  long  past  sorrow  and  joy,  and  the  steep  of  the  bale  he  climbs ; 

And  he  kneeleth  down  by  Sigurd,  and  bareth  the  Wrath  to  the  sun 

That  the  beams  are  gathered  about  it,  and  from  hilt  to  blood-point  run. 

And  wide  o'er  the  plain  of  the  Niblungs  doth  the  light  of  the  Branstock  glare, 

Till  the  wondering  mountain-shepherds  on  that  star  of  noontide  stare, 

And  fear  for  many  an  evil ;  but  the  ancient  man  stands  still 

With  the  war-flame  on  his  shoulder,  nor  thinks  of  good  or  of  ill. 

Till  the  feet  of  Brynhild's  bearers  on  the  topmost  bale  are  laid. 

And  her  bed  is  dight  by  Sigurd's ;  then  he  sinks  the  pale  white  blade 

And  lays  it  'twixt  the  sleepers,  and  leaves  them  there  alone  — 

He,  the  last  that  shall  ever  behold  them,  —  and  his  days^  are  well-nigh  done. 

Then  is  silence  over  the  plain ;  in  the  noon  shine  the  torches  pale ; 

As  the  best  of  the  Niblung  Earl-folk  bear  fire  to  the  builded  bale  : 

Then  a  wind  in  the  west  ariseth,  and  the  white  flames  leap  on  high. 

And  with  one  voice  crieth  the  people  a  great  and  mighty  cry, 

And  men  cast  up  hands  to  the  Heavens,  and  pray  without  a  word, 

As  they  that  have  seen  God's  visage,  and  the  face  of  the  Father  have  heard. 

They  are  gone  —  the  lovely,  the  mighty,  the  hope  of  the  ancient  Earth : 
It  shall  labour  and  bear  the  burden  as  before  that  day  of  their  birth : 
It  shall  groan  in  its  blind  abiding  for  the  day  that  Sigurd  hath  sped, 
And  the  hour  that  Brynhild  hath  hastened,  and  the  dawn  that  waketh  the  dead . 
It  shall  yearn,  and  be  oft-times  holpen,  and  forget  their  deeds  no  more, 
Till  the  new  sun  beams  on  Baldur,  and  the  happy  sealess  shore. 


BOOK    IV. 

GUDRUN. 

HEREIN  IS  TOLD  OF  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  NIBLUNGS  AFTER  THEY  SLEW 
SIGURD,  AND  OF  THEIR  WOEFUL  NEED  AND  FALL  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF 
KING   ATLI. 

King  Atli  wooeth  and  weddeth  Gudrun. 

r  TEAR  now  of  those  Niblung  war-kings,  how  in  glorious  state  they  dwell  \ 

-*■  "*■     They  do  and  undo  at  their  pleasure  and  wear  their  life-days  well ; 

They  deal  out  doom  to  the  people,  and  their  hosts  of  war  array, 

Nor  storm  nor  wind  nor  winter  their  eager  swords  shall  stay : 

They  ride  the  lealand  highways,  they  ride  the  desert  plain, 

They  cry  out  kind  to  the  Sea-god  and  loose  the  wave-steed's  rein : 

They  climb  the  unmeasured  mountains,  and  gleam  on  the  world  beneath. 

And  their  swords  are  the  blinding  lightning,  and  their  shields  are  the  shadow 

of  death : 
When  men  tell  of  the  lords  of  the  Goth-folk,  of  the  Niblungs  is  their  word, 
All  folk  in  the  round  world's  compass  of  their  mighty  fame  have  heard  ; 
They  are  lords  of  the  Ransom  of  Odin,  the  uncounted  sea-born  Gold, 
The  Grief  of  the  wise  Andvari,  the  Death  of  the  Dwarfs  of  old. 
The  gleaming  Load  of  Greyfell,  the  ancient  Serpent's  Bed, 
The  store  of  the  days  forgotten,  by  the  dead  heaped  up  for  the  dead. 
Lo,  such  are  the  Kings  of  the  Niblungs,  but  yet  they  crave  and  desire 
Lest  the  world  hold  greater  than  they,  lest  the  Gods  and  their  kindred  be 

[higher 
Fair,  bright  is  their  hall  in  the  even ;  still  up  to  the  cloudy  roof 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  277 

There  goeth  the  glee  and  the  singing  while  the  eagles  chatter  aloof, 
And  the  Gods  on  the  hangings  waver  in  the  doubtful  wind  of  night ; 
Still  fair  are  the  linen-clad  damsels,  still  are  the  war-dukes  bright; 
Men  come  and  go  in  the  even ;  men  come  and  go  in  the  morn ; 
Good  tidings  with  the  daybreak,  fair  fame  with  the  glooming  is  born : 
—  But  no  tidings  of  Sigurd  and  Brynhild,  and  whoso  remembereth  their  days 
Turns  back  to  the  toil  or  the  laughter  from  his  words  of  lamenting  or  praise, 
Turns  back  to  the  glorious  Gunnar,  casts  hope  on  the  Niblung  name, 
Doeth  deeds  from  the  morn  to  the  even,  and  beareth  no  burden  of  shame. 

Well  wedded  is  Gunnar  the  King,  and  Hogni  hath  wedded  a  wife ; 

Fair  queens  are  those  wives  of  the  Niblungs,  good  helpmates  in  peace  and 

in  strife, 
Sweet  they  sit  on  the  golden  high-seat,  and  Grimhild  sitteth  beside. 
And  the  years  have  made  her  glorious,  and  the  days  have  swollen  her  pride  ; 
She  looketh  down  on  the  people,  from  on  high  she  looketh  down, 
And  her  days  have  become  a  wonder,  and  her  redes  are  wisdom's  crown. 
She  saith :  Where  then  are  the  Gods  ?  what  things  have  they  shapen  and  made 
More  of  might  than  the  days  I  have  shapen  ?  of  whom  shall  our  hearts  be 

[afraid  ? 
Now  there  was  a  King  of  the  outlands,  and  Atli  was  his  name. 
The  lord  of  a  mighty  people,  a  man  of  marvellous  fame. 
Who  craved  the  utmost  increase  of  all  that  kings  desire ; 
Who  would  reach  his  hand  to  the  gold  as  it  ran  in  the  ruddy  fire, 
Or  go  down  to  the  ocean-pavement  to  harry  the  people  beneath, 
Or  cast  up  his  sword  at  the  Gods,  or  bid  the  friendship  of  death. 
By  hap  was  the  man  unwedded,  and  wide  in  the  world  he  sought 
For  a  queen  to  increase  his  glory  lest  his  name  should  come  to  nought ; 
And  no  kin  like  the  kin  of  the  Niblungs  he  found  in  all  the  earth, 
No  treasure  like  their  treasure,  no  glory  like  their  worth ; 
So  he  sendeth  an  ancient  war-duke  with  a  goodly  company. 
And  three  days  they  ride  the  mirk-wood  and  ten  days  they  sail  the  sea, 
And  three  days  they  ride  the  highways  till  they  come  to  Gunnar's  land ; 


278  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

And  there  on  an  even  of  summer  in  Gunnar's  hall  they  stand, 

And  the  spears  of  Welshland  glitter,  and  the  Southland  garments  gleam, 

For  those  folk  are  fair  apparelled  as  the  people  of  a  dream. 

But  the  glorious  son  of  Giuki  from  amidst  the  high-seat  spoke : 
"  Why  stand  ye  mid  men  sitting,  or  fast  mid  feasting  folk  ? 
No  meat  nor  drink  there  lacketh,  and  the  hall  is  long  and  wide. 
Three  days  in  the  peace  of  the  Niblungs  unquestioned  shall  ye  bide, 
Then  timely  do  your  message,  and  bid  us  peace  or  war." 

But  spake  the  Earl  of  Atli  yet  standing  on  the  floor : 

"  All  hail,  O  glorious  Gunnar,  O  mighty  King  of  men ! 

O'er-short  is  the  life  of  man-folk,  the  three-score  years  and  ten. 

Long,  long  is  the  craft  for  the  learning,  and  sore  doth  the  right  hand  waste : 

Lo,  lord,  our  spurs  are  bloody,  and  our  brows  besweat  with  haste  j 

Our  gear  is  stained  by  the  sea-spray  and  rent  by  bitter  gales, 

For  we  struck  no  mast  to  the  tempest,  and  the  East  was  in  our  sails ; 

By  the  thorns  is  our  raiment  rended,  for  we  rode  the  mirk-wood  through, 

And  our  steeds  were  the  God-bred  coursers,  nor  day  from  night-tide  knew : 

Lo,  we  are  the  men  of  Atli,  and  his  will  and  his  spoken  word 

Lies  not  beneath  our  pillow,  nor  hangs  above  the  board ; 

Nay  how  shall  it  fail  but  slay  us  if  three  days  we  hold  it  hid  ? 

—  I  will  speak  to-night,  O  Niblung,  save  thy  very  mouth  forbid : 

But  lo  now,  look  on  the  tokens,  and  the  rune-staff  of  the  King." 

Then  spake  the  Son  of  Giuki :  "  Give  forth  the  word  and  the  thing, 
Since  thy  faithfulness  constraineth :  but  I  know  thy  tokens  true, 
And  thy  rune-staff  hath  the  letters  that  in  days  agone  I  knew." 

"  Then  this  is  the  word,"  said  the  elder,  "  that  Atli  set  in  my  mouth : 

*  I  have  known  thee  of  old.  King  Gunnar,  when  we  twain  drew  sword  in  the 

south 
In  the  days  of  thy  father  Giuki,  and  great  was  the  fame  of  thee  then : 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  279 

But  now  it  rejoiceth  my  heart  that  thou  growest  the  greatest  of  men, 

And  anew  I  crave  thy  friendship,  and  I  crave  a  gift  at  thy  hands,      [lands, 

That  thou  give  me  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  the  queen  and  the  darling  of 

To  be  my  wife  and  my  helpmate,  my  glory  in  hall  and  afield ; 

That  mine  ancient  house  may  blossom  and  fresh  fruit  of  the  King-tree  yield. 

I  send  thee  gifts  moreover,  though  little  things  be  these, 

But  such  is  the  fashion  of  great  ones  when  they  speak  across  the  seas.' " 

[gold; 
Then  cried  out  that  earl  of  the  strangers,  and  men  brought  the  gifts  and  the 
White  steeds  from  the  Eastland  horse-plain,  fine  webs  of  price  untold, 
Huge  pearls  of  the  nether  ocean,  strange  masteries  subtly  wrought 
By  the  hands  of  craftsmen  perished  and  people  come  to  nought. 

But  Gunnar  laughed  and  answered :  "  King  Atli  speaketh  well ; 
Across  the  sea,  peradventure,  I  too  a  tale  may  tell : 
Now  born  is  thy  burden  of  speech ;  so  rejoice  at  the  Niblung  board, 
For  here  art  thou  sweetly  welcome  for  thyself  and  thy  mighty  lord : 
And  maybe  by  this  time  tomorrow,  or  maybe  in  a  longer  space. 
Shall  ye  have  an  answer  for  Atli,  and  a  word  to  gladden  his  face." 

So  the  strangers  sit  and  are  merry,  and  the  Wonder  of  the  East 
And  the  glory  of  the  Westland  kissed  lips  in  the  Niblung  feast. 

But  again  on  the  morrow-morning  speaks  Gunnar  with  Grimhild  and  saith : 
"  Where  then  in  the  world  is  Gudrun,  and  is  she  delivered  from  death  ? 
For  nought  hereof  hast  thou  told  me :  but  the  wisest  of  women  art  thou. 
And  I  deem  that  all  things  thou  knowest,  and  thy  cunning  is  timely  now ; 
For  King  Atli  wooeth  my  sister ;  and  as  wise  as  thou  mayst  be, 
What  thing  mayst  thou  think  of  greater  'twixt  the  ice  and  the  uttermost  sea 
Than  the  might  of  the  Niblung  people,  if  this  wedding  come  to  pass  ? " 

Then  answered  the  mighty  Grimhild,  and  glad  of  heart  she  was  : 
"  It  is  sooth  that  Gudrun  liveth ;  for  that  daughter  of  thy  folk 


28o  THE  STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Fled  forth  from  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs  when  the  Volsung's  might  ye  broke 

She  fled  from  all  holy  dwellings  to  the  houses  of  the  deer, 

And  the  feet  of  the  mountains  deserted  that  few  folk  come  anear : 

There  the  wolves  were  about  and  around  her,  and  no  mind  she  had  to  live  ; 

Dull  sleep  she  deemed  was  better  than  with  turmoiled  thought  to  strive : 

But  there  rode  a  wife  in  the  wood,  a  queen  of  the  daughters  of  men, 

And  she  came  where  Gudrun  abided,  whose  might  was  minished  as  then, 

Till  she  was  as  a  child  forgotten ;  nor  that  queen  might  she  gainsay ; 

Who  took  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  and  bore  my  daughter  away 

To  her  burg  o'er  the  hither  mountains ;  there  she  cherished  her  soft  and  sweet, 

Till  she  rose,  from  death  delivered,  and  went  upon  her  feet : 

She  awoke  and  beheld  those  strangers,  a  trusty  folk  and  a  kind, 

A  goodly  and  simple  people,  that  few  lords  of  war  shall  find : 

Glorious  and  mighty  they  deemed  her,  as  an  outcast  wandering  God, 

And  she  loved  their  loving-kindness,  and  the  fields  of  the  tiller  she  trod, 

And  went  'twixt  the  rose  and  the  lily,  and  sat  in  the  chamber  of  wool, 

And  smiled  at  the  laughing  maidens,  and  sang  over  shuttle  and  spool. 

Seven  seasons  there  hath  she  bided,  and  this  have  I  wotted  for  long ; 

But  I  knew  that  her  heart  is  as  mine  to  remember  the  grief  and  the  wrong 

So  the  days  of  thy  sister  I  told  not,  in  her  life  would  I  have  no  part, 

Lest  a  foe  for  thy  life  I  should  fashion,  and  sharpen  a  sword  for  thine  heart : 

But  now  is  the  day  of  our  deeds,  and  no  longer  durst  I  refrain, 

Lest  I  put  the  Gods'  hands  from  me,  and  make  their  gifts  but  vain. 

Yea,  the  woman  is  of  the  Niblungs,  and  often  I  knew  her  of  old. 

How  her  heart  would  burn  within  her  when  the  tale  of  their  glory  was  told 

With  wisdom  and  craft  shall  I  work,  with  the  gifts  that  Odin  hath  given. 

Wherewith  my  fathers  of  old,  and  the  ancient  mothers  have  striven." 

"  Thy  word  is  good,"  quoth  Gunnar,  "  a  happy  word  indeed : 

Lo,  how  shall  I  fear  a  woman,  who  have  played  with  kings  in  my  need  ? 

Yea,  how  may  I  speak  of  my  sister,  save  well  remembering 

How  goodly  she  was  aforetime,  how  fair  in  everything. 

How  kind  in  the  days  passed  over,  how  all  fulfilled  of  love 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  281 

For  the  glory  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  might  that  the  world  shall  move  ? 
She  shall  see  my  face  and  Hogni's,  she  shall  yearn  to  do  our  will, 
And  the  latter  days  of  her  brethren  with  glory  shall  fulfill." 

Then  Grimhild  laughed  and  answered  :  "  Today  then  shalt  thou  ride 
To  the  dwelling  of  Thora  the  Queen,  for  there  doth  thy  sister  abide." 

[heard, 
As  she  spake  came  the  wise-heart  Hogni,  and  that  speech  of  his  mother  he 
And  he  said :  "  How  then  are  ye  saying  a  new  and  wonderful  word, 
That  ye  meddle  with  Gudrun's  sorrow,  and  her  grief  of  heart  awake  ? 
Will  ye  draw  out  a  dove  from  her  nest,  and  a  worm  to  your  hall-hearth  take  ?  " 

"  What  then,"  said  his  brother  Gunnar,  "  shall  we  thrust  by  Atli's  word  ? 
Shall  we  strive,  while  the  world  is  mocking,  with  the  might  of  the  Eastland 

sword. 
While  the  wise  are  mocking  to  see  it,  how  the  great  devour  the  great  ? " 

"  O  wise-heart  Hogni,"  said  Grimhild,  "wilt  thou  strive  with  the  hand  of  fate, 
And  thrust  back  the  hand  of  Odin  that  the  Niblung  glory  will  crown  ? 
Wert  thou  born  in  a  cot-carle's  chamber,  or  the  bed  of  a  King's  renown  ? ' 

"I  know  not,  I  know  not,"  said  Hogni,  "but  an  unsure  bridge  is  the  sea, 
And  such  would  I  oft  were  builded  betwixt  my  foeman  and  me. 
I  know  a  sorrow  that  sleepeth,  and  a  wakened  grief  I  know. 
And  the  torment  of  the  mighty  is  a  strong  and  fearful  foe." 

They  spake  no  word  before  him ;  but  he  said  :  "  I  see  the  road  ; 
I  see  the  ways  we  must  journey  —  I  have  long  cast  off  the  load, 
The  burden  of  men's  bearing  wherein  they  needs  must  bind 
All-eager  hope  unseeing  with  eyeless  fear  and  blind  : 
So  today  shall  my  riding  be  light ;  nor  now,  nor  ever  henceforth 
Shall  men  curse  the  sword  of  Hogni  in  the  tale  of  the  Niblung  worth." 


282  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Therewith  he  went  out  from  before  them,  and  through  chamber  and  hall  he 

cried 
On  the  best  of  the  Niblung  earl-folk,  for  that  now  the  Kings  would  ride  : 
Soon  are  all  men  assembled,  and  their  shields  are  fresh  and  bright, 
Nor  gold  their  raiment  lacketh ;  then  the  strong-necked  steeds  they  dight, 
They  dight  the  wain  for  Grimhild,  and  she  goeth  up  therein. 
And  the  well-clad  girded  maidens  have  left  the  work  they  win. 
To  sit  by  the  Mother  of  Kings  and  make  her  glory  great : 

[gate; 
Then  to  horse  get  the  Kings  of  the  Niblungs,  and  ride  out  by  the  ancient 
And  amidst  its  dusky  hollows  stir  up  the  sound  of  swords : 
Forth  then  from  the  hallowed  houses  ride  on  those  war-fain  lords, 
Till  they  come  to  the  dales  deserted,  and  the  woodland  waste  and  drear ; 
There  the  wood-wolves  shrink  before  them,  fast  flee  the  forest-deer, 
And  the  stony  wood-ways  clatter  as  the  Niblung  host  goes  by. 
Adown  by  the  feet  of  the  mountains  that  eve  in  sleep  they  lie, 
And  arise  on  the  morrow-morning  and  climb  the  mountain-pass, 
And  the  sunless  hollow  places,  and  the  slopes  that  hate  the  grass. 
So  they  cross  the  hither  ridges  and  ride  a  stony  bent 
Adown  to  the  dale  of  Thora,  and  the  country  of  content; 
By  the  homes  of  a  simple  people,  by  cot  and  close  they  go. 
Till  they  come  to  Thora's  dwelling ;  but  fair  it  stands  and  low 
Amidst  of  orchard-closes,  and  round  about  men  win 
Fair  work  in  field  and  garden,  and  sweet  are  the  sounds  therein. 

Then  down  by  the  door  leaps  Gunnar,  but  awhile  in  the  porch  he  stands 

To  hearken  the  women's  voices  and  the  sound  of  their  labouring  hands ; 

And  amidst  of  their  many  murmurings  a  mightier  voice  he  hears, 

The  speech  of  his  sister  Gudrun :  his  inmost  heart  it  stirs 

And  he  entereth  glad  and  smiling ;  bright,  huge  in  the  lowly  hall 

He  stands  in  the  beam  of  sunlight  where  the  dust-motes  dance  and  fall. 

On  the  high-seat  sitteth  Gudrun  when  she  sees  the  man  of  war 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  283 

Come  gleaming  into  the  chamber  j  then  she  standeth  up  on  the  floor, 

And  is  great  and  goodly  to  look  on  mid  the  women  of  that  place : 

But  she  knoweth  the  guise  of  the  Niblungs,  and  she  knoweth  Gunnar's  face, 

And  at  first  she  turneth  to  flee,  as  erewhile  she  fled  away, 

When  she  rose  f roni  the  wound  of  Sigurd  and  loathed  the  light  of  day : 

But  her  father's  heart  rose  in  her,  and  the  sleeping  wrong  awoke. 

And  she  made  one  step  from  the  high-seat  before  Queen  Thora's  folk ; 

And  Gunnar  moved  from  the  threshold,  and  smiled  as  he  drew  anear, 

And  Hogni  went  behind  him  and  the  Mother  of  Kings  was  there ; 

And  her  maids  and  the  Earls  of  the  Niblungs  stood  gleaming  there  behind : 

Lo,  the  kin  and  the  friends  of  Gudrun,  a  smiling  folk  and  kind ! 

In  the  midst  stood  Gudrun  before  them,  and  cried  aloud  and  said : 
"  What!  bear  ye  tidings  of  Sigurd  ?  is  he  new  come  back  from  the  dead  ? 
O  then  will  I  hasten  to  greet  him,  and  cherish  my  love  and  my  lord, 
Though  the  murderous  sons  of  Giuki  have  borne  the  tale  abroad." 

Dead-pale  she  stood  before  them,  and  no  mouth  answered  again, 
And  the  summer  morn  grew  heavy,  and  chill  were  the  hearts  of  men, 
And  Thora's  people  trembled :  there  the  simple  people  first 
Saw  the  horror  of  the  King-folk,  and  mighty  lives  accurst. 

All  hushed  stood  the  glorious  Gunnar,  but  Hogni  came  before, 
And  he  said  :  "  It  is  sooth,  my  sister,  that  thy  sorrow  hath  been  sore, 
That  hath  rent  thee  away  from  thy  kindred  and  the  folk  that  love  thee  most : 
But  to  double  sorrow  with  hatred  is  to  cast  all  after  the  lost. 
And  to  die  and  to  rest  not  in  death,  and  to  loathe  and  linger  the  end  : 
Now  today  do  we  come  to  this  dwelling  thy  grief  and  thy  woe  to  amend, 
And  to  give  thee  the  gift  that  we  may ;  for  without  thy  love  and  thy  peace 
Doth  our  life  and  our  glory  sicken,  though  its  outward  show  increase. 
Lo,  we  bear  thee  rule  and  dominion,  and  hope  and  the  glory  of  life. 
For  King  Atli  wooeth  thee,  Gudrun,  for  his  queen  and  his  wedded  wife." 

Still  she  stood  as  a  carven  image,  as  a  stone  of  ancient  days 


284  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

When  the  sun  is  bright  about  it  and  the  wind  sweeps  low  o'er  the  ways. 
All  hushed  was  Gunnar  the  Niblung  and  knew  not  how  to  beseech, 
But  still  Hogni  faced  his  sister,  nor  faltered  aught  in  his  speech : 

"  Thou  art  young,"  he  said,  "  O  sister ;  thou  wert  called  a  mighty  queen 
When  the  nurses  first  upraised  thee  and  first  thy  body  was  seen : 
If  thou  bide  with  these  toiling  women  when  a  great  king  bids  thee  to  wife, 
Then  first  is  it  seen  of  the  Niblungs  that  they  cringe  and  cower  from  strife : 
By  the  deeds  of  the  Golden  Sigurd  I  charge  thee  hinder  us  not, 
When  the  Norns  have  dight  the  way-beasts,  and  our  hearts  for  the  journey 

[are  hot ! " 
She  answered  not  with  speaking,  she  questioned  not  with  eyes, 
Nought  did  her  deadly  anger  to  her  brow  unknitted  rise. 
Then  forth  came  Grimhild  the  Mighty,  and  the  cup  was  in  her  hand,  [land , 
Wherein  with  the  sea's  dread  mingled  was  the  might  and  the  blood  of  the 
And  the  guile  of  the  summer  serpent,  and  the  herb  of  the  sunless  dale 
Were  blent  for  the  deadening  slumber  that  forgetteth  joy  and  bale ; 
And  cold  words  of  ancient  wisdom  that  the  very  Gods  would  dim 
Were  the  foreshores  of  that  wine-sea  and  the  cliffs  that  girt  its  rim : 
Therewith  in  the  hall  stood  Grimhild,  and  cried  aloud  and  spake : 

"  It  was  I  that  bore  thee,  daughter ;  I  laboured  once  for  thy  sake, 

I  groaned  to  bear  thee  a  queen,  I  sickened  sore  for  thy  fame : 

By  me  and  my  womb  I  command  thee  that  thou  worship  the  Niblung  name, 

And  take  the  gift  we  would  give  thee,  and  be  wed  to  a  king  of  the  earth. 

And  rejoice  in  kings  hereafter  when  thy  sons  are  come  to  the  birth : 

Lo,  then  as  thou  lookest  upon  them,  and  thinkest  of  glory  to  come. 

It  shall  be  as  if  Sigmund  were  living,  and  Sigurd  sat  in  thine  home." 

Nought  answered  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  no  master  of  masters  might  see 
The  hate  in  her  soul  swift-growing  or  the  rage  of  her  misery. 
But  great  waxed  the  wrath  of  Grimhild ;  there  huge  in  the  hall  she  stood. 
And  her  fathers'  might  stirred  in  her,  and  the  well-spring  of  her  blood ; 


BOOK  IV.    GUDRUN.  285 

And  she  cried  out  blind  with  anger :  "  Though  all  we  die  on  one  day, 

Though  we  live  for  ever  in  sorrow,  yet  shalt  thou  be  given  away 

To  Atli  the  King  of  the  mighty,  high  lord  of  the  Eastland  gold  : 

Drink  now,  that  my  love  and  my  wisdom  may  thaw  thine  heart  grown  cold  j 

And  take  those  great  gifts  of  our  giving,  the  cities  long  builded  for  thee, 

Th2  wine-burgs  digged  for  thy  pleasure,  the  fateful  wealthy  lea^ 

The  darkling  woods  of  the  deer,  the  courts  of  mighty  lords. 

The  hosts  of  men  war-shielded,  the  groves  of  fallow  swords  !  " 

Nought  changed  the  eyes  of  Gudrun,  but  she  reached  her  hand  to  the  cup 
And  drank  before  her  kindred,  and  the  blood  from  her  heart  went  up. 
And  was  blent  with  the  guile  of  the  serpent,  and  many  a  thing  she  forgat, 
But  never  the  day  of  her  sorrow,  and  of  how  o'er  Sigurd  she  sat  : 
But  the  land's-folk  looked  on  the  Niblungs  as  the  daughter  of  Giuki  drank, 
And  before  their  wrath  they  trembled,  and  before  their  joy  they  shrank. 

Then  yet  again  spake  Gudrun,  and  they  that  stood  thereby, 

—  O  how  their  hearts  were  heavy  as  though  the  sun  should  die  ! 

She  said :  "  O  Kings  of  my  kindred,  I  shall  nought  gainsay  your  will  j 

With  the  fruit  of  your  fond  desires  your  hearts  shall  ye  fulfill : 

Bear  me  back  to  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  house  of  my  fathers  of  old, 

That  the  men  of  King  Atli  may  take  me  with  the  tokens  and  treasure  of  gold." 

Then  the  cry  goeth  up  from  the  Niblungs,  and  no  while  in  that  house  they 
Forth  fare  the  Cloudy  People  and  the  stony  slopes  they  ride,  [abide  j 

And  the  sun  is  bright  behind  them  o'er  queen  Thora's  lowly  dale, 
Where  the  sound  of  their  speech  abideth  as  an  ancient  woeful  tale. 
But  the  Niblungs  ride  the  forest  and  the  dwellings  of  the  deer. 
And  the  wife  of  the  Golden  Sigurd  to  the  ancient  Burg  they  bear  j 
She  speaks  not  of  good  nor  of  evil,  and  no  change  in  her  face  men  see, 
Nay,  not  when  the  Niblung  towers  rise  up  above  the  lea ; 
Nay,  not  when  they  come  to  the  gateway,  and  that  builded  gloom  again 
Swallows  up  the  steed  and  its  rider,  and  sword,  and  gilded  wain ; 


286  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Nay,  not  when  to  earth  she  steppeth,  and  her  feet  again  pass  o'er 

The  threshold  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  holy  house  of  yore ; 

Nay,  not  when  alone  she  lieth  in  the  chamber,  on  the  bed 

Where  she  lay,  a  little  maiden,  ere  her  hope  was  born  and  dead : 

Yea,  how  fair  is  her  face  on  the  morrow,  how  it  winneth  all  people's  praise, 

As  the  moon  that  forebodeth  nothing  on  the  night  of  the  last  of  days. 

Nought  tarry  the  lords  of  King  Atli,  and  the  Niblungs  stay  them  nought ; 
The  doors  of  the  treasure  are  opened  and  the  gold  and  the  tokens  are  brought ; 
And  all  men  in  the  hall  are  assembled,  where  Gunnar  speaketh  and  saith : 

"  Go  hence,  O  men  of  King  Atli,  and  tell  of  our  love  and  our  faith 
To  thy  master,  the  mighty  of  men :  go  take  him  this  treasure  of  gold, 
And  show  him  how  we  have  hearkened,  and  nought  from  his  heart  may  with- 
Nay  not  our  best  and  our  dearest,  nay  not  the  crown  of  our  worth,    [hold, 
Our  sister,   the  white-armed  Gudrun,  the  wise  and  the  Queen  of  the  earth." 

Then  arose  the  cry  of  the  people,  and  that  Duke  of  Atli  spake : 
"  We  bless  the,  O  mighty  Gunnar,  for  the  Eastland  Atli's  sake. 
And  his  kingdom  as  thy  kingdom,  and  his  men  as  thy  men  shall  be, 
And  the  gold  in  Atli's  treasure  is  stored  and  gathered  for  thee." 

So  spake  he  amid  their  shouting,  and  the  Queen  from  the  high-seat  stept, 
And  Gudrun  stood  with  the  strangers,  and  there  were  women  who  wept, 
But  she  wept  no  more  than  she  smiled,  nor  spake,  nor  turned  again 
To  that  place  in  the  ancient  dwelling  where  once  lay  Sigurd  slain. 
But  she  mounteth  the  wain  all  golden,  and  the  Earls  to  the  saddle  leap 
And  forth  they  ride  in  the  morning,  and  adown  the  builded  steep 
That  hath  no  name  for  Gudrun,  save  the  place  where  Sigurd  fell, 
The  strong  abode  of  treason,  the  house  where  murderers  dwell. 

Three  days  they  ride  the  lealand  till  they  come  to  the  side  of  the  sea : 
Ten  days  they  sail  the  sea-flood  to  the  land  where  they  would  be : 


BOOK  IV.    GUDRUN.  287 

Three  days  they  ride  the  mirk-wood  to  the  peopled  country-side, 

Three  days  through  a  land  of  cities  and  plenteous  tilth  they  ride ; 

On  the  fourth  the  Burg  of  Atli  o'er  the  meadows  riseth  up, 

And  the  houses  of  his  dwelling  fine-wrought  as  a  silver  cup. 

Far  off  in  a  bight  of  the  mountains  by  the  inner  sea  it  stands 

Turned  away  from  the  house  of  Gudrun,  and  her  kindred  and  their  lands. 

Then  to  right  and  to  left  looked  Gudrun  and  beheld  the  outland  folk, 

With  no  love  nor  hate  nor  wonder,  as  out  from  the  teeth  she  spoke 

To  that  unfamiliar  people  that  had  seen  not  Sigurd's  face. 

There  she  saw  the  walls  most  mighty  as  they  came  to  the  fenced  place : 

But  lo,  by  the  gate  of  the  city  and  the  entering  in  of  the  street 

Is  an  host  exceeding  glorious,  for  the  King  his  bride  will  greet : 

So  Gudrun  stayeth  her  fellows,  and  lighteth  down  from  the  wain. 

And  afoot  cometh  Atli  to  meet  her,  and  they  meet  in  the  midst,  they  twain, 

And  he  casteth  his  arms  about  her  as  a  great  man  glad  at  heart ; 

Nought  she  smiles,  nor  her  brow  is  knitted  as  she  draweth  aback  and  apart 

No  man  could  say  who  beheld  her  if  sorry  or  glad  she  were ; 

But  her  steady  eyes  are  beholding  the  King  and  the  Eastland's  Fear 

And  she  thinks  :  Have  I  lived  too  long  ?  how  swift  doth  the  world  grow  worse, 

Though  it  was  but  a  little  season  that  I  slept,  forgetting  the  curse ! 

But  the  King  speaks  kingly  unto  her  and  they  pass  forth  under  the  gate, 
And  she  sees  he  is  rich  and  mighty,  though  the  Niblung  folk  be  great ; 
So  strong  is  his  house  upbuilded,  so  many  are  his  lords. 
So  great  the  hosts  for  the  murder  and  the  meeting  of  the  swords ; 
And  she  saith :  It  is  surely  enough  and  no  further  now  shall  I  wend ; 
In  this  house,  in  the  house  of  a  stranger  shall  be  the  tale  and  the  end. 


At/i  biddeth  the  Niblungs  to  him. 

There  now  is  Gudrun  abiding,  and  gone  by  is  the  bloom  of  her  youth, 
And  she  dwells  with  a  folk  untrusty,  and  a  King  that  knows  not  ruth : 


288  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Great  are  his  gains  in  the  world,  and  few  men  may  his  might  withstand, 
But  he  weigheth  sore  on  his  people  and  cumbers  the  hope  of  his  land ; 
He  craves  as  the  sea-flood  craveth,  he  gripes  as  the  dying  hour, 
All  folk  lie  faint  before  him  as  he  seeketh  a  soul  to  devour : 
Like  breedeth  like  in  his  house,  and  venom,  and  guile,  and  the  knife 
Oft  lie  'twixt  brother  and  brother,  and  the  son  and  the  father's  life : 
As  dogs  doth  Gudrun  heed  them,  and  looks  with  steadfast  eyes 
On  the  guile  and  base  contention,  and  the  strife  of  murder  and  lies. 

So  pass  the  days  and  the  moons,  and  the  seasons  wend  on  their  ways, 
And  there  as  a  woman  alone  she  sits  mid  the  glory  and  praise : 
There  oft  in  the  hall  she  sitteth,  and  as  empty  images 
Are  grown  the  shapes  of  the  strangers,  till  her  fathers'  hall  she  sees : 
Void  then  seems  the  throne  of  the  King,  and  no  man  sits  by  her  side 
In  the  house  of  the  Cloudy  People  and  the  place  of  her  brethren's  pride  ; 
But  a  dead  man  lieth  before  her,  and  there  cometh  a  voice  and  a  hand, 
And  the  cloth  is  plucked  from  the  dead,  and,  lo,  the  beloved  of  the  land. 
The  righter  of  wrongs,  the  deliverer,  yea  he  that  gainsayed  no  grace : 
In  a  stranger's  house  is  Gudrun  and  no  change  comes  over  her  face, 
But  her  heart  cries :  Woe,  woe,  woe,  O  woe  unto  me  and  to  all ! 
On  the  fools,  on  the  wise,  on  the  evil  let  the  swift  destruction  fall ! 

Cold  then  is  her  voice  in  the  high-seat,  and  she  hears  not  what  it  saith ; 
But  Atli  heedeth  and  hearkeneth,  for  she  tells  of  the  Glittering  Heath, 
And  the  Load  of  the  mighty  Greyfell,  and  the  Ransom  of  Odin  the  Goth : 
Cold  yet  is  her  voice  as  she  telleth  of  murder  and  breaking  of  troth. 
Of  the  stubborn  hearts  of  the  Niblungs,  and  their  hands  that  never  yield, 
Of  their  craving  that  nought  fulfilleth,  of  their  hosts  arrayed  for  the  field. 
—  What  then  are  the  words  of  King  Atli  that  the  cold  voice  answereth  thus  ? 

"  King,  so  shalt  thou  do,  and  be  sackless  of  the  vengeance  that  lieth  with  us : 
What  words  are  these  of  my  brethren,  what  words  are  these  of  my  kin  ? 
For  kin  upon  kin  hath  pity,  and  good  deeds  do  brethren  win 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  289 

For  the  babes  of  their  mothers'  bosoms,  and  the  children  of  one  womb : 

But  no  man  on  me  had  pity,  no  kings  were  gathered  for  doom 

When  I  lifted  my  hands  for  the  pleading  in  the  house  of  my  father's  folk ; 

When  men  turned  and  wrapped  them  in  treason,  and  did  on  wrong  as  a  cloak ' 

I  have  neither  brethren  nor  kindred,  and  I  am  become  thy  wife 

To  help  thine  heart  to  its  craving,  and  strengthen  thine  hand  in  the  strife.'' 

Thus  she  stirred  up  the  lust  of  Atli,  she,  unmoved  as  a  mighty  queen. 
While  the  fire  that  burned  within  her  by  no  child  of  man  was  seen. 

There  oft  in  the  bed  she  lieth,  and  beside  her  Atli  sleeps, 
And  she  seeth  him  not  nor  heedeth,  for  the  horror  over  her  creeps, 
And  her  own  cry  rings  through  the  chamber  that  along  ago  she  cried. 
And  a  man  for  his  life-breath  gasping  is  struggling  by  her  side, 
Yea  who  but  Sigurd  the  Volsung ;  and  no  man  of  men  in  death 
Ere  spake  such  words  of  pity  as  the  words  that  now  he  saith, 
As  the  words  he  speaketh  ever  while  he  riseth  up  on  the  sword. 
The  sword  of  the  foster-brethren  and  the  Kings  that  swore  the  word. 
Lo,  there  she  lieth  and  hearkeneth  if  yet  he  speak  again, 
And  long  she  lieth  hearkening  and  lieth  by  the  slain. 

So  dreams  the  waking  Gudrun  till  the  morn  comes  on  apace 

And  the  daylight  shines  on  Atli,  and  no  change  comes  over  her  face, 

And  deep  hush  lies  on  the  chamber ;  but  loud  cries  out  her  heart : 

How  long,  how  long,  O  God-folk,  will  ye  sit  alone  and  apart. 

And  let  the  blood  of  Sigurd  cry  on  you  from  the  earth. 

While  crowned  are  the  sons  of  murder  with  worship  and  with  worth  ? 

If  ye  tarry  shall  I  tarry }     From  the  darkness  of  the  womb 

Came  1  not  in  the  days  passed  over  for  accomplishing  your  doom  ? 

So  she  saith  till  the  daylight  brightens,  and  the  kingly  house  is  astir. 
And  she  sits  by  the  side  of  Atli,  and  a  woman's  voice  doth  hear, 
One  who  speaks  with  the  voice  of  Gudrun,  a  queenly  voice  and  cold : 
19 


290  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

"  How  oft  shall  I  tell  thee,  Atli,  of  the  wise  Andvari's  Gold, 

The  Treasure  Regin  craved  for,  the  uncounted  ruddy  rings  ? " 

Full  surely  he  that  holds  it  shall  rule  all  earthly  kings : 

Stretch  forth  thine  hand,  O  Atli,  for  the  gift  is  marvellous  great, 

And  I  am  she  that  giveth !  how  long  wilt  thou  linger  and  wait 

Till  the  traitors  come  against  thee  with  the  war-torch  and  the  steel, 

And  here  in  thy  land  thou  perish,  befooled  of  thy  kingly  weal  ? 

Have  I  wedded  the  King  of  the  Eastlands,  the  master  of  numberless  swords, 

Or  a  serving  man  of  the  Niblungs,  a  thrall  of  the  Westland  lords  ? " 

So  spake  the  voice  of  Gudrun ;  suchwise  she  cast  the  seed 

O'er  the  gold-lust  of  King  Atli  for  the  day  of  the  Niblungs'  Need. 

Who  is  this  in  the  hall  of  King  Gunnar,  this  golden-gleaming  man  ? 
Who  is  this,  the  bright  and  the  silent  as  the  frosty  eve  and  wan. 
Round  whom  the  speech  of  wise-ones  lies  hid  in  bonds  of  fear? 
Who  this  in  the  Niblung  feast-hall  as  the  moon-rise  draweth  anear  ? 

Hark !  his  voice  mid  the  glittering  benches  and  the  wine-cups  of  the  Earls, 

As  cold  as  the  wind  that  bloweth  where  the  winter  river  whirls, 

And  the  winter  sun  forgetteth  all  the  promise  of  the  spring : 

"  Hear  ye,  O  men  of  the  Westlands,  hear  thou  O  Westland  King, 

I  have  ridden  the  scorching  highways,  I  have  ridden  the  mirk-wood  blind, 

I  have  sailed  the  weltering  ocean  your  Westland  house  to  find ; 

For  I  am  the  man  called  Knefrud  with  Atli's  word  in  my  mouth. 

That  saith :  O  noble  Gunnar,  come  thou  and  be  glad  in  the  south. 

And  rejoice  with  Eastland  warriors ;  for  the  feast  for  thee  is  dight, 

And  the  cloths  for  thy  coming  fashioned  my  glorious  hall  make  bright. 

Knowst  thou  not  how  the  sun  of  the  heavens  hangs  there  twixt  floor  and  roof, 

How  the  light  of  the  lamp  all  golden  holds  dusky  night  aloof  ? 

How  the  red  wine  runs  like  a  river,  and  the  white  wine  springs  as  a  well. 

And  the  harps  are  never  ceasing  of  ancient  deeds  to  tell  ? 

Thou  shalt  come  when  thy  heart  desireth,  when  thou  weariest  thou  shalt  go, 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  291 

And  shalt  say  that  no  such  high-tide  the  world  shall  ever  know. 

Come  bare  and  bald  as  the  desert,  and  leave  mine  house  again 

As  rich  as  the  summer  wine-burg,  and  the  ancient  wheat-sown  plain ! 

Come,  bid  thy  men  be  building  thy  store-house  greater  yet, 

And  make  wide  thy  stall  and  thy  stable  for  the  gifts  thine  hand  shall  get ! 

Yet  when  thou  art  gone  from  Atli,  he  shall  stand  by  his  treasure  of  gold, 

He  shall  look  through  stall  and  stable,  he  shall  ride  by  field  and  fold. 

And  no  ounce  from  the  weight  shall  be  lacking,  of  his  beasts  shall  lack  no 

head, 
If  no  thief  hath  stolen  from  Gunnar,  if  no  beast  in  his  land  lie  dead. 
Yea  henceforth  let  our  lives  be  as  one,  let  our  wars,  and  our  wayfarings  blend, 
That  my  name  with  thine  may  be  told  of,  when  the  song  is  sung  in  the  end 
That  the  ancient  war-spent  Atli  may  sit  and  laugh  with  delight 
O'er  thy  feet  the  swift  in  battle,  o'er  thine  hand  uplifted  to  smite." 

So  spake  the  guileful  Knefrud  mid  the  silence  of  the  wise, 
Nor  once  his  cold  voice  faltered,  nor  once  he  sank  his  eyes : 
Then  spake  the  glorious  Gunnar  : 

"  We  hear  King  Atli's  voice, 
And  the  heart  is  glad  within  us  that  he  biddeth  us  rejoice : 
Yet  the  thing  shall  be  seen  but  seldom  that  a  Niblung  fares  from  his  land 
With  eyes  by  the  gold-lust  blinded,  with  the  greedy  griping  hand. 
When  thou  farest  aback  unto  Atli,  thou  shalt  tell  him  how  thou  hast  been 
In  the  house  of  the  Westland  Gunnar,  and  what  things  thine  eyes  have  seen : 
Thou  shalt  tell  of  the  seven  store-houses  with  swords  filled  through  and 
Gold-hilted,  deftly  smithied,  in  the  Southland  wave  made  blue  :     [through. 
Thou  shalt  tell  of  the  house  of  the  treasures  and  the  Gold  that  lay  erewhile 
On  the  Glittering  Heath  of  murder  'neath  the  heart  of  the  Serpent's  guile : 
Thou  shalt  note  our  glittering  hauberk,  thou  shalt  strive  to  bend  our  bow, 
Thou  shalt  look  on  the  shield  of  Gunnar  that  its  white  face  thou  mayst  know : 
Thou  shalt  back  the  Niblung  war-steed  when  the  west  wind  blows  its  most, 
And  see  if  it  over-run  thee ;  thou  shalt  gaze  on  the  Niblung  host 
And  be  glad  of  the  friends  of  Atli  j  thou  shalt  fare  through  stable  and  stall, 


292  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG 

And  tell  over  the  tale  of  the  beast-kind,  if  the  night  forbear  to  fall , 
Through  the  horse-mead  shalt  thou  wander,  through  the  meadows  of  the 
But  forbear  to  count  their  thousands  lest  thou  weary  for  thy  sleep ;     [sheep, 
Thou  shalt  look  if  the  barns  be  empty,  though  the  wheat-field  whiteneth  now 
In  the  midmost  of  the  summer  in  the  fields  men  cared  to  plough ; 
Thou  shalt  dwell  with  men  that  lack  not,  and  the  tillers  fair  and  fain; 
Thou  shalt  see,  and  long,  and  wonder,  and  tell  thy  King  of  his  gain ; 
For  in  all  that  here  thou  beholdest  hath  he  portion  even  as  we ; 
Sweet  bloometh  his  love  in  our  midmost,  and  the  fair  time  yet  may  be, 
When  we  twain  shall  meet  and  be  merry ;  and  sure  when  our  lives  are  done 
No  more  shall  men  sunder  our  glory  than  the  Gods  have  rent  the  sun. 
Sit,  mighty  man,  and  be  joyous  :  and  then  shalt  thou  cast  us  a  word 
A.nd  say  how  fareth  our  sister  mid  the  glory  of  her  lord." 

Then  Knefrud  looked  upon  Gunnar,  and  spake,  nor  sank  his  eyes : 
"  Each  morn  at  the  day's  beginning  when  the  sun  hath  hope  to  arise 
She  looketh  from  Atli's  tower  toward  the  west  part  and  the  grey, 
To  see  the  Niblung  spear-heads  gleam  down  the  lonely  way : 
Each  eve  at  the  day's  departing  on  the  topmost  tower  she  stands. 
And  looketh  toward  the  mirk-wood  and  the  sea  of  the  western  lands : 
There  long  in  the  wind  she  standeth,  and  the  even  grown  acold, 
To  see  the  Niblung  war-shields  come  forth  from  out  the  wold." 

Then  Gunnar  turneth  to  Hogni,  and  he  saith  :  "  O  glorious  lord, 
What  saith  thine  heart  to  the  bidding,  and  Atli's  loving  word  ?  " 

[rough, 
"  I  have  done  many  deeds,"  said  Hogni,  "I  have  worn  the  smooth  and  .he 
While  the  Gods  looked  on  from  heaven,  and  belike  I  have  done  enough 
And  no  deed  for  me  abideth,  but  rather  the  sleep  and  the  rest. 
But  thou,  O  Son  of  King  Giuki,  art  our  eldest  and  our  best, 
And  fair  lie  the  fields  before  thee  wherein  thine  hand  shall  work : 
By  the  wayside  of  the  greedy  doth  many  a  peril  lurk ; 
Full  wise  is  the  great  one  meseemeth  who  bideth  his  ending  at  home 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  293 

When  the  winds  and  the  waves  may  be  dealing  with  hate  that  hath  far  to 

[come." 
"  I  hearken  thy  word,"  said  Gunnar,  "  and  I  know  in  very  deed 
That  long-lived  and  happy  are  most  men  that  hearken  Hogni's  rede. 
Hear  thou,  O  Eastland  War-god,  and  bear  this  answer  aback, 
That  nought  may  the  earth  of  my  people  King  Giuki's  children  lack, 
A.nd  that  here  in  the  land  am  I  biding  till  the  Norns  my  life  shall  change ; 
Howbeit,  if  here  were  Atli,  his  face  were  scarce  more  strange 
Than  that  daughter  of  my  father  whom  sore  I  long  to  see : 
Let  him  come,  and  sit  with  the  Niblungs,  and  be  called  their  king  with  me." 

Then  spake  the  guileful  Knefrud,  and  his  word  was  exceeding  proud : 
"  It  is  little  the  wont  of  Atli  to  sit  at  meat  with  a  crowd ; 
Yet  know,  O  Westland  Warrior,  that  thy  message  shall  be  done, 
Since  the  Cloudy  Folk  make  ready  new  lodging  for  the  sun." 

He  laughed,  and  the  wise  kept  silence,  and  Gunnar  heeded  him  nought : 

On  the  daughter  of  his  people  was  set  the  Niblung's  thought. 

So  sore  he  longed  to  behold  her ;  for  his  life  seemed  wearing  away. 

And  the  wealth  and  the  fame  he  had  gathered  seemed  nought  by  the  earlier 

The  day  of  love  departed,  and  of  hope  forgotten  long.  [day, 

But  Hogni  laughs  with  the  stranger,  and  cries  out  for  harp  and  song. 

And  the  glee  rises  up  as  a  river  when  the  mountain-tops  grow  clear, 

When  seaward  drift  the  rain-clouds,  and  the  end  of  day  is  near ; 

As  of  birds  in  the  green  groves  singing  is  the  Niblung  manhood's  voice. 

And  the  Earls  without  foreboding  in  their  mighty  life  rejoice. 

Glad  then  grows  the  King  of  the  people,  and  the  sweetness  filleth  his  heart, 

And  he  turneth  about  a  little,  and  speaketh  to  Knefrud  apart : 

"  What  sayest  thou,  lord  of  the  Eastland,  how  with  Gudrun's  heart  it  fares  ? 

Is  she  sunk  in  the  day  of  dominion  and  the  burden  that  it  bears, 

Or  remembereth  she  her  brethren  and  her  father  and  her  folk  ? " 

Then  Knefrud  looked  upon  Gunnar,  and  forth  from  the  teeth  he  spoke: 


294  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

"  It  is  e'en  as  I  said,  King  Gunnar :  all  eves  she  stands  by  the  gate 
The  coming  of  her  kindred  through  the  dusky  tide  to  wait : 
Each  day  in  the  dawn  she  ariseth,  and  saith  the  time  is  at  hand 
When  the  feet  of  the  Niblung  War-Kings  shall  tread  King  Atli's  land : 
Then  she  praiseth  the  wings  of  the  dove,  and  the  wings  of  the  wayfaring  cran^ 
'Gainst  whom  the  wind  prevails  not,  and  the  tempest  driveth  in  vain ; 
And  she  praiseth  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  how  they  toil  and  toil  and  blend, 
Till  they  break  on  the  strand  belovbd,  and  the  Niblung  earth  in  the  end." 

He  spake,  and  the  song  rose  upward  and  the  wine  of  Kings  was  poured, 
And  Gunnar  heard  in  the  wall-nook  how  the  wind  went  forth  abroad. 
And  he  dreamed,  and  beheld  the  ocean,  and  all  kingdoms  of  the  earth, 
And  the  world  lay  fair  before  him  and  his  worship  and  his  worth. 

Then  again  spake  the  Eastland  liar :  "  O  King  I  may  not  hide 
That  great  things  in  the  land  of  Atli  thy  mighty  soul  abide ; 
For  the  King  is  spent  and  war-weak,  nor  rejoiceth  more  in  strife ; 
And  his  sons,  the  children  of  Gudrun,  now  look  their  first  on  life : 
For  this  end  meseems  is  his  bidding,  that  no  worser  men  than  ye 
May  sit  in  the  throne  of  Atli  and  the  place  where  he  wont  to  be." 

In  the  tuneful  hall  of  the  Niblungs  that  Eastland  liar  spake, 
And  he  heard  the  song  of  the  mighty  o'er  Gunnar's  musing  break, 
And  his  cold  heart  gladdened  within  him  as  man  cried  out  to  man, 
And  fair  'twixt  horn  and  beaker  the  red  wine  bubbled  and  ran. 

At  last  spake  Gunnar  the  Niblung  as  his  hand  on  the  cup  he  laid : 
"  A  great  king  craveth  our  coming,  and  no  more  shall  he  be  gainsayed : 
We  will  go  to  look  on  Atli,  though  the  Gods  and  the  Goths  forbid ; 
Nought  worse  than  death  meseemeth  on  the  Niblungs'  path  is  hid. 
And  this  shall  the  high  Gods  see  to,  but  I  to  the  Niblung  name, 
And  the  day  of  deeds  to  accomplish,  and  the  gathering-in  of  fame." 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  295 

Up  he  stood  with  the  bowl  in  his  right-hand,  and  mighty  and  great  he  was, 
And  he  cried :  "  Now  let  the  beakers  adown  the  benches  pass ; 
Let  us  drink  dear  draughts  and  glorious,  though  the  last  farewell  it  be, 
And  this  draught  that  I  drink  have  sundered  my  father's  house  and  me." 

He  drank,  and  all  men  drank  with  him,  and  the  hearts  of  the  Earls  arose 

As  of  them  that  snatch  forth  glory  from  the  deadly  wall  of  foes : 

With  the  joy  of  life  were  they  drunken  and  no  man  knew  for  why. 

And  the  voice  of  their  exultation  rose  up  in  an  awful  cry : 

—  It  is  joy  in  the  mouths  that  utter,  it  is  hope  in  the  hearts  that  crave, 

And  think  of  no  gainsaying,  and  remember  nought  to  save ; 

But  without  the  women  hearken,  and  the  hearts  within  them  sink : 

And  they  say  :  What  then  betideth  that  our  lords  forbear  to  drink, 

And  wail  and  weep  in  the  night-tide  and  cry  the  Gods  to  aid  ? 

Why  then  are  the  Kings  tormented,  and  the  warriors'  hearts  afraid  ? 

[fail, 
Then  the  deadened  sound  sweeps  landward,  and  the  hearts  of  the  field-folk 
And  they  say :  Is  there  death  in  the  Burg,  that  thence  goeth  the  cry  and  thf 

wail  ? 
Lo,  lo,  the  feast-hall's  windows  !  blood-red  through  the  dark  they  shine . 
Why  is  weeping  the  song  of  the  Niblungs,  and  blood  the  warrior's  wine  ? 

But  therein  are  the  torches  tossing,  and  the  shields  of  men  upborne, 
And  the  death-blades  yet  unbloodied  cast  up  'twixt  bowl  and  horn. 
And  all  rest  of  heart  is  departed  as  men  speak  of  the  mirk-wood's  ways 
And  the  fame  of  outland  countries,  and  the  green  sea's  troublous  days. 

But  Gunnar  arose  o'er  the  people,  as  a  mighty  King  he  spake  : 

"  O  ye  of  the  house  of  Giuki  that  are  joyous  for  my  sake. 

What  then  shall  be  left  to  the  Niblungs  if  we  return  no  more  ? 

Then  let  the  wolves  be  warders  of  the  Niblungs'  gathered  store ! 

On  the  hearth  let  the  worm  creep  over  where  the  fire  now  flares  aloft ! 

And  the  adder  coil  in  the  chambers  where  the  Niblung  wives  sleep  soft  I 


296  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Let  the  master  of  the  pine-wood  roll  huge  in  the  Niblung  porch, 

And  the  moon  through  the  broken  rafters  be  the  Niblungs'  feastful  torch ! " 

Glad  they  cried  on  the  glorious  Gunnar ;  for  they  saw  the  love  in  his  eyes, 
And  with  joy  and  wine  were  they  drunken,  and  his  words  passed  over  the 
As  oft  o'er  the  garden  lilies  goes  the  rising  thunder-wind,  [wise, 

And  they  know  no  other  summer,  and  no  spring  that  was  they  mind. 

But  Hogni  speaketh  to  Knefrud :  "  Lo,  Gunnar's  word  is  said : 
How  fares  it,  lord,  with  Gudrun  ?  remembereth  she  the  dead  ? " 

Then  the  liar  laughed  out  and  answered :  "  Ye  shall  go  tomorrow  morn ; 

The  man  to  turn  back  Gunnar  shall  never  now  be  born  : 

Each  day-spring  the  white  Gudrun  on  Sigurd's  glory  cries, 

All  eves  she  wails  on  Sigurd  when  the  fair  sun  sinks  and  dies  !  " 

"  Thou  sayest  sooth,"  said  Hogni,  "  one  day  we  twain  shall  wend 
To  the  gate  of  the  Eastland  Atli,  that  our  tale  may  have  an  end. 
Long  time  have  I  looked  for  the  journey,  and  marvelled  at  the  day. 
With  what  eyes  I  shall  look  on  Sigurd,  what  words  his  mouth  shall  say." 

Then  he  raiseth  the  cup  for  Gunnar,  and  men  see  his  glad  face  shine 

As  he  crieth  hail  and  glory  o'er  the  bubbles  of  the  wine ; 

And  they  drink  to  the  lives  of  the  brethren,  and  men  of  the  latter  earth 

May  not  think  of  the  height  of  their  hall-glee,  or  measure  out  their  mirth: 

So  they  feast  in  the  undark  even  to  the  midmost  of  the  night. 

Till  at  last,  with  sleep  unwearied,  they  weary  with  delight, 

And  pass  forth  to  the  beds  blue-covered,  and  leave  the  hearth  acold : 

They  sleep ;  in  the  hall  grown  silent  scarce  glimmereth  now  the  gold : 

For  the  moon  from  the  world  is  departed,  and  grey  clouds  draw  across, 

To  hide  the  dawn's  first  promise  and  deepen  earthly  loss. 

The  lone  night  draws  to  its  death,  and  never  another  shall  fall 

On  those  sons  of  the  feastful  warriors  in  the  Niblungs'  holy  hall. 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  297 


How  the  Niblungs  fare  to  the  Land  of  King  AtlL 

Now  when  the  house  was  silent,  and  all  men  in  slumber  lay, 

And  yet  two  hours  were  lacking  of  the  dawning-tide  of  day. 

The  sons  of  his  foster-mother  doth  the  heart-wise  Hogni  find ; 

In  the  dead  night,  speaking  softly,  he  showeth  them  his  mind, 

And  they  wake  and  hearken  and  heed  him,  and  arise  from  the  bolster  blue, 

Nor  aught  do  their  stout  hearts  falter  at  the  deed  he  bids  them  do. 

So  he  and  they  go  softly  while  all  men  slumber  and  sleep. 

And  they  enter  the  treasure-houses,  and  come  to  their  midmost  heap ; 

But  so  rich  in  the  night  it  glimmers  that  the  brethren  hold  their  breath, 

While  Hogni  laugheth  upon  it :  —  long  it  lay  on  the  Glittering  Heath, 

Long  it  lay  in  the  house  of  Reidmar,  long  it  lay  'neath  the  waters  wan , 

But  no  long  while  hath  it  tarried  in  the  houses  and  dwellings  of  man. 

Nor  long  these  linger  before  it ;  they  set  their  hands  to  the  toil. 

And  uplift  the  Bed  of  the  Serpent,  the  Seed  of  murder  and  broil ; 

No  word  they  speak  in  their  labour,  but  bear  out  load  on  load 

To  great  wains  that  out  in  the  fore-court  for  the  coming  Gold  abode : 

Most  huge  were  the  men,  far  mightier  that  the  mightiest  fashioned  now, 

But  the  salt  sweat  dimmed  their  eyesight  and  flooded  cheek  and  brow 

Ere  half  the  work  was  accomplished ;  and  by  then  the  laden  wains 

Came  groaning  forth  from  the  gateway,  dawn  drew  on  o'er  the  plains  , 

And  the  ramparts  of  the  people,  those  walls  high-built  of  old. 

Stood  grey  as  the  bones  of  a  battle  in  a  dale  few  folk  behold  : 

But  in  haste  they  goad  the  yoke-beasts,  and  press  on  and  make  no  speech, 

Though  the  hearts  are  proud  within  them  and  their  eyes  laugh  each  at  each. 

No  great  way  down  from  the  burg-gate,  anigh  to  the  hallowed  field 
There  lieth  a  lake  in  the  river  as  round  as  Odin's  shield, 
A  black  pool  huge  and  awful :  ten  long-ships  of  the  most 
Therein  might  wager  battle,  and  the  sunken  should  be  lost 


298  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Beyond  all  hope  of  diver,  yea,  beyond  the  plunging  lead ; 

On  either  side  its  rock-walls  rise  up  to  a  mighty  head, 

But  by  green  slopes  from  the  meadows  'tis  easy  drawing  near 

To  the  brow  whence  the  dark-grey  rampart  to  the  water  goeth  sheer : 

'Tis  as  if  the  Niblung  river  had  cleft  the  grave-mound  through 

Of  the  mightiest  of  all  Giants  ere  the  Gods'  work  was  to  do  j 

And  indeed  men  well  might  deem  it,  that  fearful  sights  lie  hid 

Beneath  the  unfathomed  waters,  the  place  to  all  forbid; 

No  stream  the  black  deep  showeth,  few  winds  may  search  its  face, 

And  the  silver-scaled  sea-farers  love  nought  its  barren  space. 

There  now  the  Niblung  War-king  and  the  foster-brethren  twain 

Lead  up  their  golden  harvest  and  stay  it  wain  by  wain, 

Till  they  hang  o'er  the  rim  scarce  balanced :  no  glance  they  cast  below 

To  the  black  and  awful  waters  well  known  from  long  ago. 

But  they  cut  the  yoke-beasts'  traces,  and  drive  them  down  the  slopes, 

Who  rush  through  the  widening  daylight,  and  bellow  forth  their  hopes 

Of  the  straw-stall  and  the  barley :  but  the  Niblungs  turn  once  more. 

Hard  toil  the  warrior  cart-carles  for  the  garnering  of  their  store, 

And  shoulder  on  the  wain-wheels  o'er  the  edge  of  the  grimly  wall, 

And  stand  upright  to  behold  it,  how  the  waggons  plunge  and  fall. 

Down  then  and  whirling  outward  the  ruddy  Gold  fell  forth. 

As  a  flame  in  the  dim  grey  morning,  flashed  out  a  kingdom's  worth. 

Then  the  waters  roared  above  it,  the  wan  water  and  the  foam 

Flew  up  o'er  the  face  of  the  rock-wall  as  the  tinkling  Gold  fell  homCj 

Unheard,  unseen  for  ever,  a  wonder  and  a  tale. 

Till  the  last  of  earthly  singers  from  the  sons  of  men  shall  fail : 

Then  the  face  of  the  further  waters  a  widening  ripple  rent 

And  forth  from  hollow  places  strange  sounds  as  of  talking  went. 

And  loud  laughed  Hogni  in  answer ;  but  not  so  long  he  stayed 

As  that  half  the  oily  ripple  in  long  sleepy  coils  was  laid, 

Or  the  lapping  fallen  silent  in  the  water-beaten  caves ; 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  299 

Scarce  streamward  yet  were  drifting  the  foam-heaps  o'er  the  waves, 
When  betwixt  the  foster-brethren  down  the  slopes  King  Hogni  strode 
Toward  the  ancient  Burg  of  his  fathers,  as  a  man  that  casteth  a  load : 
No  word  those  fellows  had  spoken  since  he  whispered  low  and  light 
O'er  the  beds  of  the  foster-brethren  in  the  dead  hour  of  the  night, 
But  his  face  was  proud  and  glorious  as  he  strode  the  war-gate  through, 
And  went  up  to  his  kingly  chamber,  and  the  golden  bed  he  knew. 
And  lay  down  and  slept  by  his  help-mate  as  a  play-spent  child  might  sleep 
In  some  franklin's  wealthy  homestead,  in  the  room  the  nurses  keep. 

Nought  the  sun  on  that  morn  delayeth,  but  light  o'er  the  world's  face  flies 

And  awake  by  the  side  of  King  Hogni  the  wedded  woman  lies. 

And  her  bosom  is  weary  with  sighing,  and  her  eyes  with  dream-born  tears 

And  a  sound  as  of  all  confusion  is  ever  in  her  ears : 

Then  she  turneth  and  crieth  to  Hogni,  as  she  layeth  a  hand  on  his  breast : 

"  Wake,  wake,  thou  son  of  Giuki !  save  thy  speech-friend  all  unrest ! " 

Then  he  waketh  up  as  a  child  that  hath  slept  in  the  summer  grass, 
And  he  saith  :  "  What  tidings,  O  Bera,  what  tidings  come  to  pass  ?  " 

She  saith,  "  Wilt  thou  wend  with  Gunnar  to  Atli  over  the  main  ? " 

Said  Hogni :  "  Hast  thou  not  heard  it,  how  rich  we  shall  come  again  ?  " 

"Ye  shall  never  come  back,"  said  Bera,  "ye  shall  die  by  the  inner  sea." 

"Yea,  here  or  there,"  said  Hogni,  "my  death  no  doubt  shall  be." 

"  O  Hogni,"  she  said,  "forbear  it,  that  snare  of  the  Eastland  wrong ! 

In  the  health  and  the  wealth  of  the  sunlight  at  home  mayst  thou  tarry  for  long : 

For  waking  or  sleeping  I  dreamed,  and  dreaming,  the  tokens  I  saw." 

[flaw . 
"  Oft,"  he  said,  "  in  the  hands  of  the  house-wife  comes  the  crock  by  its  fataJ 


300  THE   STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

An  hundred  earls  shall  slay  me,  or  the  fleeing  night-thief's  shaft, 
The  sickness  that  wasteth  cities,  or  the  unstrained  summer  draught : 
Now  as  mighty  shall  be  King  Atli  and  the  gathered  Eastland  force 
As  the  fly  in  the  wine  desired,  or  the  weary  stumbling  horse." 

She  said :  "  Wilt  thou  stay  in  the  land,  lest  the  noble  faint  and  fail, 

And  the  Gods  have  nought  to  tell  of  in  the  ending  of  the  tale  ? 

O  King,  save  thou  thine  hand-maid,  lest  the  bloom  of  Kings  decay ! " 

He  said :  "  Good  yet  were  the  earth,  though  all  we  should  die  in  a  day : 
But  so  fares  it  with  you,  ye  women :  when  your  husband  or  brother  shall  die, 
Ye  deem  that  the  world  shall  perish,  and  the  race  of  man  go  by." 

"  Sure  then  is  thy  death,"  she  answered,  "  for  I  saw  the  Eastland  flood 
Break  over  the  Burg  of  the  Niblungs,  and  fill  the  hall  with  blood." 

He  said :  "  Shall  we  wade  the  meadows  to  the  feast  of  Atli  the  King  ? 
Then  the  blood-red  blossoming  sorrel  about  our  legs  shall  cling." 

Said  Bera :  "  I  saw  thee  coming  with  the  face  of  other  days ; 

But  the  flame  was  in  thy  raiment,  and  thy  kingly  cloak  was  ablaze." 

"  How  else,"  said  he,  "O  woman,  wouldst  thou  have  a  Niblung  stride, 
Save  in  ruddy  gold  sun-lighted,  through  the  house  of  Atli's  pride  ? " 

She  said :  "  I  beheld  King  Atli  midst  the  place  of  sacrifice 

And  the  holy  grove  of  the  Eastland  in  a  king's  most  hallowed  guise  : 

Then  I  looked,  as  with  laughter  triumphant  he  laid  his  gift  in  the  fire, 

And  lo,  'twas  the  heart  of  Hogni,  and  the  heart  of  my  desire ; 

But  he  turned  and  looked  upon  me  as  I  sickened  with  fear  and  with  love, 

And  I  saw  the  guile  of  the  greedy,  and  with  speechless  sleep  I  strove. 

And  had  cried  out  curses  against  him,  but  my  gaping  throat  was  hushed; 

Till  the  light  of  a  deedless  dawning  o'er  dream  and  terror  rushed ; 


BOOK  IV.    GUDRUN.  301 

And  there  wert  thou  lying  beside  me,  though  but  little  joy  it  seemed, 
For  thou  wert  but  an  image  unstable  of  the  days  before  I  dreamed." 

Quoth  Hogni,  "  Shall  I  arede  it  ?  Seems  it  not  meet  to  thee 

That  the  heart  and  the  love  of  the  Niblungs  in  Atli's  hand  should  be, 

When  he  stands  by  the  high  Gods'  altars,  and  uplifts  his  heart  for  the  tide 

When  the  kings  of  the  world-great  people  to  the  Eastland  house  shall  ride  ? 

Nay,  Bera,  wilt  thou  be  weeping  ?  but  parting-fear  is  this  ; 

Doubt  not  we  shall  come  back  happy  from  the  house  of  Atli's  bliss : 

At  least,  when  a  king's  hand  offers  all  honour  and  great  weal, 

Wouldst  thou  have  me  strive  to  unclasp  it  to  show  the  hidden  steel  ? 

With  evil  will  I  meet  evil  when  it  draweth  exceeding  near ; 

But  oft  have  I  heard  of  evil,  whose  father,  was  but  fear. 

And  his  mother  lust  of  living,  and  nought  will  I  deal  with  it, 

Lest  the  past,  and  those  deeds  of  my  doing  be  as  straw  when  the  fire  is  lit. 

Lo  now,  O  Daughter  of  Kings,  let  us  rise  in  the  face  of  the  day. 

And  be  glad  in  the  summer  morning  when  the  kindred  ride  on  their  way ; 

For  tears  beseem  not  king-folk,  nor  a  heart  made  dull  with  dreams 

But  to  hope,  if  thou  mayst,  for  ever,  and  to  fear  nought,  well  beseems." 

There  the  talk  falls  down  between  them,  and  they  rise  in  the  morn,  they  twain, 
And  bright-faced  wend  through  the  dwelling  of  the  Niblungs'  glory  and  gain. 

Meanwhile  awakeneth  Gunnar,  and  looks  on  the  wife  by  his  side, 

And  saith :  "  Why  weepest  thou,  Glaumvor,  what  evil  now  shall  betide  ?  " 

She  said :  "  I  was  waking  and  dreamed,  or  I  slept  and  saw  the  truth ; 
The  Norns  are  hooded  and  angry,  and  the  Gods  have  forgotten  their  ruth." 

[kind  J 
"  Speak,  sweet-mouthed  woman,"  said  Gunnar,  "  if  the  Norns  are  hard,  I  am 
Though  even  the  King  of  the  Niblungs  may  loose  not  where  they  bind." 

She  said :  "  Wilt  thou  go  unto  Atli  and  enter  the  Burg  of  the  East  ? 


302  THE  STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

Wilt  thou  leave  the  house  of  the  faithful,  and  turn  to  the  murderer's  feast  ?  " 

"  It  is  e'en  as  certain,"  said  Gunnar,  "  as  though  I  knocked  at  his  gate, 
If  the  winds  and  waters  stay  not,  or  death,  or  the  dealings  of  Fate." 

"  Woe  worth  the  while  !  "  said  Glaumvor,  "then  I  talk  with  the  dead  indeed  : 
And  why  must  I  tarry  behind  thee  afar  from  the  Niblungs'  Need  ? " 

He  said:  "Thou  were  heavy-hearted  last  night  for  the  parting-tide; 
And  alone  in  the  dreamy  country  thy  soul  would  needs  abide, 
And  see  not  the  King  that  loves  thee,  nor  remember  the  might  of  his  hand ; 
So  thou  falledst  a  prey  unholpen  to  the  lies  of  the  dreamy  land." 

"Ah  would  they  were  lies,'  said  Glaumvor,  "for  not  the  worst  was  this : 
There  thou  wert  in  the  holy  high-seat  mid  the  heart  of  the  Niblung  bliss. 
And  a  sword  was  borne  into  our  midmost,  and  its  point  and  its  edge  were  red, 
And  at  either  end  the  wood-wolves  howled  out  in  the  day  of  dread ; 
With  that  sword  wert  thou  smitten,  O  Gunnar,  and  the  sharp  point  pierced 
And  the  kin  were  all  departed,  and  no  face  of  man  I  knew :     [thee  through : 
Then  I  strove  to  flee  and  might  not ;  for  day  grew  dark  and  strange, 
And  no  moonrise  and  no  morning  the  eyeless  mirk  would  change." 

"  Such  are  dreams  of  the  night,"  said  Gunnar,  "that  lovers  oft  perplex. 
When  the  sundering  hour  is  coming  with  the  cares  that  entangle  and  vex. 
Yet  if  there  be  more,  fair  woman,  when  a  king  speaks  loving  words. 
May  I  cast  back  words  of  anger,  and  the  threat  of  grinded  swords  ? " 

"  O  yet  wouldst  thou  tarry,"  said  Glaumvor,  "  in  the  fair  sun-lighted  day ! 
Nor  give  thy  wife  to  another,  nor  cast  thy  kingdom  away." 

[told, 
"  Of  what  king  of  the  people,"  said  Gunnar,  "  hast  thou  known  it  written  or 
That  the  word  was  born  in  the  even  which  the  morrow  should  withhold .? " 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  303 

"  Alas,  alas ! "  said  Glaumvor,  "  then  all  is  over  and  done  ! 

For  I  dreamed  of  the  hall  of  the  Niblungs  at  the  setting  of  the  sun, 

How  dead  women  came  in  thither  no  worse  than  queens  arrayed,        [laid, 

Who  passed  by  the  earls  of  the  Niblungs,  and  their  hands  on  thy  gown-skirt 

And  hailed  thee  fair  for  their  fellow,  and  bade  thee  come  to  their  hall. 

0  bethink  thee,  King  of  the  Niblungs,  what  tidings  shall  befall ! " 

"  Yea  shall  they  befall  ? "  said  Gunnar,  "  then  who  am  I  to  strive 
Against  the  change  of  my  life-days,  while  the  Gods  on  high  are  alive  ? 

1  shall  ride  as  my  heart  would  have  me ;  let  the  Gods  bestir  them  then, 
And  raise  up  another  people  in  the  stead  of  the  Niblung  men : 

But  at  home  shalt  thou  sit,  King's  Daughter,  in  the  keeping  of  the  Fates, 

And  be  blithe  with  the  men  of  thy  people  and  the  guest  within  thy  gates. 

Till  thou  know  of  our  glad  returning  to  the  holy  house  and  dear. 

Or  the  fall  of  Giuki's  children,  and  a  tale  that  all  shall  hear. 

Arise  and  do  on  gladness,  lest  the  clouds  roll  on  and  lower 

O'er  the  heavy  hearts  of  the  people  in  the  Niblungs'  parting  hour." 

So  he  spake,  and  his  love  rejoiced  her,  and  they  rose  in  the  face  of  the  day 
And  no  seeming  shadow  of  evil  on  those  bright-eyed  King-folk  lay. 

Thus  stirreth  the  house  of  the  Niblungs,  and  awakeneth  unto  life ; 
And  were  there  any  envy,  or  doubt  that  breedeth  strife, 
'Twixt  friends  or  kin  or  brethren,  'twas  healed  that  self-same  morn. 
And  peace  and  loving-kindness  o'er  all  the  house  was  borne. 

Now  arrayed  are  the  earls  and  the  warriors,  and  into  the  hall  they  come 

When  the  morning  sun  is  shining  through  the  heart  of  their  ancient  home 

And  lo,  how  the  allwise  Grimhild  is  set  in  the  golden  seat 

The  first  of  the  way-fain  warriors,  and  the  first  of  the  wives  to  greet ; 

In  the  raiment  of  old  she  sitteth,  aloft  in  the  kingly  place, 

And  all  men  marvel  to  see  her  and  the  glory  of  her  face. 


304  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

So  all  is  dight  for  departing  and  the  helms  of  the  Niblung  lords 

Shine  close  as  a  river  of  fire  o'er  the  hilts  of  hidden  swords : 

About  and  around  are  the  women ;  and  who  e'er  hath  been  heavy  of  heart, 

If  their  hearts  are  light  this  morning  when  their  fairest  shall  depart  ? 

They  hear  the  steeds  in  the  forecourt ;  from  the  rampart  of  the  wall 

Comes  the  cry  and  noise  of  the  warders  as  man  to  man  doth  call ; 

For  the  young  give  place  to  the  old,  and  the  strong  carles  labour  to  show 

The  last-learned  craft  of  battle  to  their  fathers  ere  they  go. 

There  is  mocking  and  mirth  and  laughter  as  men  tell  to  the  ancient  sires 

Of  the  four-sheared  shaft  of  the  gathering,  and  the  horn,  and  the  beaconing 

fires. 
Woe's  me !  but  the  women  laugh  not :  do  they  hope  that  the  sun  may  be  stayed, 
And  the  journey  of  the  Niblungs  a  little  while  delayed  ? 
Or  is  not  their  hope  the  rather,  that  they  do  but  dream  in  the  night. 
And  that  they  shall  awake  in  a  little  with  the  land's  life  faring  aright  ? 
Ah,  fair  and  fresh  is  the  morning  as  ever  a  season  hath  been, 
And  the  nourishing  sun  shines  glorious  on  the  toil  of  carle  and  quean. 
And  the  wealth  of  the  land  desired,  and  all  things  are  alive  and  awake ; 
Let  them  wait  till  the  even  bringeth  sweet  rest  for  hearts  that  ache. 

Lo  now,  a  stir  by  the  doorway,  and  men  see  how  great  and  grand 

Come  the  Kings  of  Giuki  begotten,  all-armed,  and  hand  in  hand : 

Where  then  shall  the  world  behold  them,  such  champions  clad  in  steel, 

Such  hearts  so  free  and  bounteous,  so  wise  for  the  people's  weal  ? 

Where  then  shall  the  world  see  such-like,  if  these  must  (lie  as  the  mean, 

And  fall  as  lowly  people,  and  their  days  be  no  more  seen  ? 

They  go  forth  fair  and  softly  as  they  wend  to  the  seat  of  the  Kings, 

And  they  smile  in  their  loving-kindness  as  they  talk  of  bygone  things. 

Are  they  not  as  the  children  of  Giuki,  that  fared  afield  erewhile 

In  hope  without  contention,  mid  the  youth  that  knew  no  guile  ? 

Their  wedded  wives  are  beside  them  with  faces  proud  and  fair, 

That  smile,  if  the  lips  smile  only,  for  the  Eastland  liar  is  there. 

Fain  the  women  are  of  those  Brethren,  and  they  seem  so  gay  and  kind, 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  305 

That  again  the  hope  upspringeth  of  their  lords  abiding  behind. 

But  Hogni  spake  to  his  brother,  and  they  looked  on  the  liar's  son 
Ar  i  clear  ran  King  Gunnar's  laughter  as  the  summer  waters  run  j 
Then  the  Queens'  hearts  fainted  within  them,  and  with  pain  they  drew  their 

breath, 
For  they  knew  that  the  King  was  merry  and  laughed  in  the  face  of  death. 

Fair  now  on  the  ancient  high-seat,  and  the  heart  of  the  Niblung  pride 

Stand  those  lovely  lords  of  Giuki  with  their  wedded  wives  beside, 

And  Gunnar  cries :  "  O  maidens,  let  the  cup  be  in  every  hand, 

For  this  morn  for  a  little  season  we  leave  our  fathers'  land, 

And  love  we  leave  behind  us,  and  love  abroad  we  bear, 

And  these  twain  shall  meet  in  a  little,  and  their  meeting-tide  be  fair : 

Rejoice  O  Niblung  children,  be  glad  o'er  the  parting  cup  ! 

For  meseems  if  the  heavens  were  falling,  our  spears  should  hold  them  up." 

Then  he  leaped  adown  from  the  high-seat  and  amidst  his  men  he  stood, 

And  the  very  joy  of  God-folk  ran  through  the  Niblung  blood. 

And  the  glee  of  them  that  die  not :  there  they  drink  in  their  mighty  hall. 

And  glad  on  the  ancient  fathers,  and  the  sons  of  God  they  call : 

The  hope  of  their  hearts  goes  upward  in  the  last  most  awful  voice, 

And  once  more  the  quivering  timbers  of  the  Niblung  home  rejoice. 

But  exceeding  proud  sits  Grimhild,  and  so  wondrous  is  her  state 
That  men  deem  they  have  never  seen  her  so  glorious  and  so  great, 
And  she  speaks,  when  again  in  the  feast-hall  is  there  silence  save  of  the  mail^ 
And  the  whispered  voice  of  women,  as  they  tell  their  latest  tale : 

"  Go  forth,  O  Kings,  to  dominion,  and  the  crown  of  all  your  might. 
And  the  tale  from  of  old  foreordered  ere  the  day  was  begotten  of  night 
For  all  this  is  the  work  of  the  Norns,  though  ye  leave  a  woman  behind 
Who  hath  toiled  and  toiled  in  the  darkness,  the  road  of  fate  to  find : 
20 


3o6  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Go  glad,  O  children  of  Giuki !  though  scarce  ye  wot  indeed 

Of  the  labour  of  your  mother  to  win  your  glory's  meed. 

Farewell,  farewell,  O  children,  till  ye  get  you  back  again 

To  her  that  bore  you  in  darkness,  and  brought  you  forth  in  pain  ! 

Cast  wide  the  doors  for  the  King-folk,  ring  out  O  harpstrings  now  I 

For  the  best  e'er  born  of  woman  go  forth  with  cloudless  brow. 

Be  glad  O  ancient  lintel,  O  threshold  of  the  door, 

For  such  another  parting  shall  earth  behold  no  more !  " 

She  ceased,  and  no  voice  gave  answer  save  the  voice  of  smitten  harps, 

As  the  hands  of  the  music-weavers  went  o'er  their  golden  warps  j 

Then  high  o'er  the  warriors  towering,  as  the  king-leek  o'er  the  grass, 

Out  into  the  world  of  sunlight  through  the  door  those  Brethren  pass, 

And  all  the  host  of  the  warriors,  the  women's  silent  woe. 

The  steel,  and  the  feet  soft-falling  o'er  the  ancient  threshold  go, 

While  all  alone  on  the  high-seat  the  god-born  Grimhild  sits : 

There  hearkeneth  she  steeds'  neighing,  and  the  champing  of  the  bits, 

And  the  clash  of  steel-clad  champions,  as  at  last  they  leap  aloft, 

And  cries  and  women's  weeping  mid  the  music  breathing  soft ; 

Then  the  clattering  of  the  horse-hoofs,  and  the  echo  of  the  gate 

With  the  wakened  sword-song  singing  o'er  departure  of  the  great, 

Till  the  many  mingled  voices  are  swallowed  up  and  stilled, 

And  all  the  air  by  seeming  with  an  awful  sound  is  filled. 

The  cry  of  the  Niblung  trumpet,  as  men  reach  the  unwalled  space  : 

So  whiles  in  a  mighty  city,  and  a  many-peopled  place. 

When  the  rain  falls  down  mid  the  babb.  3,  noi  ceaseth  rattle  of  wheels, 

And  with  din  of  wedding  joy-bells  the  minster  steeple  reels, 

Lo,  God  sends  down  his  thunder,  and  all  else  is  hushed  as  then, 

And  it  is  as  the  world's  beginning,  and  before  the  birth  of  men. 

Long  sitteth  the  god-born  Grimhild  till  all  is  silent  there, 
For  afar  adown  the  meadows  with  the  host  all  people  fare  ; 
Then  bitter  groweth  her  visage,  in  the  hush  she  crieth  and  saith : 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  307 

«  O  ye  —  whom  then  shall  I  cry  on,  ye  that  hunt  my  sons  unto  death, 
And  overthrow  our  glory,  and  bring  our  labour  to  nought  — 
Ye  Gods,  ye  had  fashioned  the  greatest,  and  to  make  them  greater  I  wrought, 
And  to  strengthen  your  hands  for  the  battle,  and  uplift  your  hearts  for  the  end : 
But  ye,  ye  have  fashioned  confusion,  and  the  great  with  the  little  ye  blend, 
Till  no  more  on  the  earth  shall  be  living  the  mighty  that  mock  at  your  death, 
Till  like  the  leaves  men  tremble,  like  the  dry  leaves  quake  at  a  breath. 
I  have  wrought  for  your  lives  and  your  glory,  and  for  this  have  I  strengthened 

my  guile, 
That  the  earth  your  hands  uplifted  might  endure,  nor  pass  in  a  while 
Like  the  clouds  of  latter  morning  that  melt  in  the  first  of  the  night." 

She  rose  up  great  and  dreadful,  and  stood  on  the  floor  upright, 
And  cast  up  her  hands  to  the  roof-tree,  and  cried  aloud  and  said : 

"Woe  to  you  that  have  made  me  for  nothing!  for  the  house  of  the  Niblungs 
Empty  and  dead  as  the  desert,  where  the  sun  is  idle  and  vain  [is  dead, 
And  no  hope  hath  the  dew  to  cherish,  and  no  deed  abideth  the  rain ! " 

She  falleth  aback  in  the  high-seat,  and  the  eagles  cry  from  aloof, 
While  Grimhild's  eyes  wide-open  stare  up  at  the  Niblung  roof : 
But  they  see  not,  nought  are  they  doing  to  feed  her  fear  or  desire ; 
And  her  heart,  the  forge  of  sorrow,  dead,  cold,  is  its  baneful  fire  ; 
And  her  cunning  hand  is  helpless,  for  her  hopeless  soul  is  gone ; 
Far  off  belike  it  drifteth  from  the  waste  her  labour  won. 

Fair  now  through  midmost  ocean  King  Gunnar's  dragons  run. 
And  the  green  hills  round  about  them  gleam  glorious  with  the  sun ; 
The  keels  roll  down  the  sea-dale,  and  welter  up  the  steep, 
And  o'er  the  brow  hang  quivering  ere  again  they  take  the  leap  j 
For  the  west  wind  pipes  behind  them,  and  no  land  is  on  their  lea 
As  the  mightiest  of  earth's  peoples  sails  down  the  summer  sea: 
And  as  eager  as  the  west-wind,  no  duller  than  the  foam 


3o8  THE  STORY  OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

They  spread  all  sails  to  the  breezes,  and  seek  their  glory  home : 

Six  days  they  sail  the  sea-flood,  and  the  seventh  dawn  of  day 

Up-heaveth  a  new  country,  a  land  far-off  and  grey ; 

Then  Knefrud  biddeth  heed  it,  and  he  saith :  "  Lo,  the  Eastland  shore, 

And  the  land  few  ships  have  sailed  to,  by  the  mirk-wood  covered  o'er." 

Then  riseth  the  cry  and  the  shouting  as  the  golden  beaks  they  turn, 

For  all  hearts  for  the  land  of  cities,  and  the  hall  of  Atli  yearn  : 

But  a  little  after  the  noontide  is  the  Niblung  host  embayed. 

And  betwixt  the  sheltering  nesses  the  ocean-wind  is  laid : 

No  whit  they  brook  delaying :  but  their  noblest  and  their  best 

Toss  up  the  shaven  oar-blades,  and  toil  and  mock  at  rest ; 

Full  swift  they  skim  the  swan-mead  till  the  tall  masts  quake  and  reel, 

And  the  oaken  sea-burgs  quiver  from  bulwark  unto  keel. 

It  is  Gunnar  goes  the  foremost  with  the  tiller  in  his  hand. 

And  beside  him  standeth  Knefrud  and  laughs  on  Atli's  land :  - 

And  so  fair  are  the  dragons  driven,  that  by  ending  of  the  day  ^ 

On  the  beach  by  the  ebb  left  naked  the  sea-beat  keels  they  lay : 

Then  they  look  aloft  from  the  foreshore,  and  lo.  King  Atli's  steeds 

On  the  brow  of  the  mirk-wood  standing,  well  dight  for  the  warriors'  needs, 

The  red  and  the  roan  together,  and  the  dapple-grey  and  the  black ; 

Nor  bits  nor  silken  bridles,  nor  golden  cloths  they  lack. 

And  the  horse-lads  of  King  Atli  with  that  horse-array  are  blent, 

And  their  shout  of  salutation  o'er  the  oozy  sand  is  sent : 

Then  no  more  will  the  Niblungs  tarry  when  they  see  that  ready  band 

But  they  leap  adown  from  the  long-ships,  and  waist-deep  they  wade  the 

strand, 
And  they  in  their  armour  of  onset,  beshielded,  and  sword  by  the  side. 
E'en  as  men  returning  homeward  to  their  loves  and  their  friends  that  abide. 
The  first  of  all  goeth  Gunnar,  and  Hogni  the  wise  cometh  after. 
And  wringeth  the  sea  from  his  kirtle ;  and  all  men  hearken  his  laughter. 
As  his  feet  on  the  earth  stand  firm,  and  the  sun  in  the  west  goeth  down, 
And  the  Niblungs  stand  on  the  foreshore  'twixt  the  sea  and  the  mirk-wood 

brown. 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  309 

For  no  meat  there  they  linger,  and  they  tarry  for  no  sleep, 

But  aloft  to  the  golden  saddles  those  Giuki's  children  leap. 

And  forth  from  the  side  of  the  sea-flood  they  ride  the  mirk-wood's  ways. 

Loud  then  is  the  voice  of  King  Hogni  and  he  sets  forth  Atli's  praise, 

As  they  ride  through  the  night  of  the  tree-boughs  till  the  earthly  night 

And  along  the  desert  sea-strand  the  wind  of  ocean  wails.  [prevails, 

There  none  hath  tethered  the  dragons,  or  inboard  handled  the  oars, 
And  the  tide  of  the  sea  cometh  creeping  along  the  stranger-shores, 
Till  those  golden  dragons  are  floated,  and  their  unmanned  oars  awash 
In  the  sandy  waves  of  the  shallows,  from  stem  to  tiller  clash : 
Then  setteth  a  wind  from  the  shore,  and  the  night  is  waxen  a-cold. 
And  seaward  drift  the  long-ships  with  their  raiment  and  vessels  of  gold, 
And  their  Gods  with  mastery  carven  :  and  who  knoweth  the  story  to  tell, 
If  their  wrack  came  ever  to  shoreward  in  some  place  where  fishers  dwell, 
Or  sank  in  midmost  ocean,  and  lay  on  the  sea-floor  wan 
Where  the  pale  sea-goddess  singeth  o'er  the  bane  of  many  a  man  ? 


Atli  speaketh  with  the  Niblungs. 

Three  days  the  Niblung  warriors  the  ways  of  the  mirk-wood  ride 

Till  they  come  to  a  land  of  cities  and  the  peopled  country-side,         [street, 

And  the  land's-folk  run  from  their  labour,  and  the  merchants  throng  the 

And  the  lords  of  many  a  city  the  stranger  kings  would  meet. 

But  nought  will  the  Niblungs  tarry ;  swift  through  Atli's  weal  they  wend, 

For  their  hearts  are  exceeding  eager  for  their  journey's  latter  end. 

Three  days  they  ride  that  country,  and  many  a  city  leave. 

But  the  fourth  dawn  mighty  mountains  by  the  inner  sea  upheave. 

Then  they  ride  a  little  further,  and  Atli's  burg  they  see 

With  the  feet  of  the  mountains  mingled  above  the  flowery  lea. 

And  yet  a  little  further,  and  lo,  its  long  white  wall, 

And  its  high-built  guarded  gateways  and  its  towers  o'erhung  and  tall ; 


3IO  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

A.nd  ever  all  along  them  the  glittering  spear-heads  run, 

As  the  sparks  of  the  white  wood-ashes  when  the  cooking-fire  is  doi  le. 

Then  they  look  to  the  right  and  the  left  hand,  and  see  no  folk  astir, 
And  no  reek  from  the  homestead  chimneys ;  and  no  toil  of  men  they  hear  j 
But  the  hook  hangs  lone  in  the  vineyard,  and  the  scythe  is  lone  in  the  hay, 
The  bucket  thirsts  by  the  well-side,  the  void  cart  cumbers  the  way. 
Then  doubt  on  the  war-host  falleth,  and  they  think  :  Well  were  we  then. 
When  once  we  rode  in  the  Westland  and  saw  the  brown-faced  men 
Peer  through  the  hawthorn  hedges  as  the  Niblung  host  went  by. 
Yet  they  laugh  and  make  no  semblance  of  any  fear  drawn  nigh. 
Yea,  Knefrud  looked  upon  them,  and  with  chilly  voice  he  spake : 

"  Now  his  guests  doth  Atli  honour,  and  yet  more  will  he  do  for  your  sake^ 

Who  hath  hidden  all  his  people,  and  holdeth  his  vassals  at  home 

On  the  day  that  the  mighty  Niblungs  adown  his  highway  come, 

Lest  men  fear  as  the  finders  of  Gods,  and  tremble  and  cumber  the  ways, 

And  the  voice  of  the  singers  fail  them  to  sing  of  the  Niblungs'  praise." 

Men  laughed  as  his  voice  they  hearkened,  and  none  bade  turn  again, 
But  the  swords  in  the  scabbards  rattled,  as  they  rode  with  loosened  rein. 

Now  they  ride  in  the  Burg-gate's  shadow  from  out  the  sunlit  fields. 

Till  the  spears  aloft  are  hidden  and  Atli's  painted  shields ; 

And  no  captain  cries  from  the  rampart,  nor  soundeth  any  horn, 

And  the  doors  of  oak  and  iron  are  shut  this  merry  morn : 

Then  the  Niblungs  leap  from  the  saddle,  and  the  threats  of  earls  arise, 

And  the  wrath  of  Kings'  defenders  is  waxing  in  their  eyes ; 

But  Knefrud  looketh  and  laugheth,  and  he  saith : 

"  So  is  Atli  fain 
Of  the  glory  of  the  Niblungs  and  their  honour's  utmost  gain : 
By  no  feet  but  yours  this  morning  will  he  have  his  threshold  trod, 
Nay,  not  by  the  world's  most  glorious,  nay  not  by  a  wandering  God." 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  311 

Then  Hogni  looked  on  Knefrud  as  the  bodily  death  shall  gaze 

On  the  last  of  the  Kings  of  men-folk  in  the  last  of  the  latter  days, 

And  he  caught  a  staff  from  his  saddle,  a  mighty  axe  of  war, 

And  stood  most  huge  of  all  men  in  face  of  Atli's  door, 

And  upreared  the  axe  against  it  with  such  wondrous  strokes  and  great. 

That  the  iron-knitted  marvel  hung  shattered  in  the  gate : 

Through  the  rent  poured  the  Niblung  children,  and  in  Atli's  burg  they  stood, 

With  none  to  bid  them  welcome,  or  ask  them  what  they  would. 

But  Hogni  turned  upon  Knefrud,  and  spake :  "  I  said,  time  was, 
That  we  twain  should  ride  out  hither  to  bring  a  deed  to  pass : 
And  now  one  more  deed  abideth,  and  then  no  more  for  thee. 
And  another  and  another,  and  no  more  deeds  for  me." 

'Gainst  the  liar's  eyes  one  moment  flashed  out  the  axe-head's  sheen, 
And  then  was  the  face  of  Knefrud  as  though  it  ne'er  had  been. 
And  his  gay-clad  corpse  lay  glittering  on  the  causeway  in  the  sun. 

No  man  cried  out  on  Hogni  or  asked  of  the  deed  so  done. 
But  their  shielded  ranks  they  marshalled  and  through  Atli's  burg  they  strode: 
There  they  see  the  merchant's  dwelling,  the  rich  man's  fair  abode, 
The  halls  of  doom,  and  the  market,  the  loom  and  the  smithying-booth. 
The  stall  for  the  wares  of  the  outlands,  the  temples  high  and  smooth : 
But  all  is  hushed  and  empty,  and  no  child  of  man  they  meet 
As  they  thread  the  city's  tangle,  and  enter  street  on  street. 
And  leave  the  last  forgotten,  and  of  the  next  know  nought. 

So  through  the  silent  city  by  the  Norns  their  feet  are  brought, 

Till  lo,  on  a  hill's  uprising  a  huge  house  they  behold, 

And  a  hall  with  gates  all  brazen,  and  roof  of  ruddy  gold : 

Then  they  know  the  house  of  Atli,  and  they  trow  that  sooth  it  is 

That  the  Lord  of  such  a  dwelling  may  give  his  guest-folk  bliss : 

Then  they  loosen  the  swords  in  their  scabbards,  and  upraise  a  mighty  shout, 


3ia  THE  STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG 

And  the  trumpet  of  the  Niblungs  through  the  lonely  street  rings  out 
And  stilleth  the  wind  in  the  wall-nook ;  but  hark,  as  its  echoes  die, 
How  forth  from  that  hall  of  the  Eastlands  comes  the  sound  of  minstrelsy^ 
And  the  brazen  doors  swing  open :  but  the  Niblungs  are  at  the  door, 
And  the  bidden  guests  of  Atli  o'er  the  fateful  threshold  pour ; 
There  the  music  faileth  before  them,  till  its  sound  is  over  and  done, 
And  fair  in  the  city  behind  them  lies  the  flood  of  the  morning  sun : 
No  man  of  the  Niblungs  murmureth,  none  biddeth  turn  aback, 
And  still  their  hands  are  empty,  and  sleep  the  edges  of  wrack. 

Huge,  dim  is  the  hall  of  Atli,  and  faint  and  far  aloof. 
As  stars  in  the  misty  even,  yet  hang  the  lamps  in  the  roof. 
And  but  little  daylight  toucheth  the  walls  and  the  hangings  of  gold : 
No  King,  and  no  earl-folk's  children  do  the  bidden  guests  behold, 
Till  they  look  aloft  to  the  high-seat,  and  lo,  a  woman  alone, 
A  white  queen  crowned,  and  silent  as  the  ancient  shapen  stone 
That  men  find  in  the  dale  deserted,  as  beneath  the  moon  they  wend, 
When  they  weary  even  to  slumber,  and  the  journey  draws  to  an  end. 
Chill  then  are  the  hearts  of  the  warriors,  for  they  know  how  they  look  on  a 
That  Gudrun  well-beloved  of  the  days  that  once  have  been ;  [queen. 

Then  were  men  that  murmured  on  Sigurd,  and  as  in  some  dream  of  the  night 
They  looked,  but  the  left  hand  failed  them,  and  there  came  no  help  from  the 

[right. 
But  forth  stood  the  mighty  Gunnar,  and  men  heard  his  kingly  voice 
As  he  spake :  "  O  child  of  my  father,  I  see  thee  again  and  rejoice, 
Though  I  wot  not  where  I  have  wended,  or  where  thou  dwellest  on  earth, 
Or  if  this  be  the  dead  men's  dwelling,  or  the  hall  of  Atli's  mirth ! " 

She  stirred  not,  nothing  she  answered :  but  forth  stood  Hogni  the  King, 
Clear,  sharp,  in  the  house  of  the  stranger  did  the  voice  of  the  fearless  ring : 
"  O  sister,  O  daughter  of  Giuki,  O  child  of  my  mother's  womb. 
By  what  death  shall  the  Niblungs  perish,  what  day  is  the  day  of  their  doom  ?  " 

Forth  then  from  the  lips  of  Gudrun  a  dreadful  voice  was  borne : 


BOOK  IV.    GUDRUN.  S^S 

'*  Ye  shall  die  to-day,  O  brethren,  at  the  hands  of  a  King  forsworn." 

As  she  spake  the  outer  door-leaves  clashed  to  with  a  mighty  sound, 
And  the  outer  air  was  troubled  with  a  new  noise  gathering  around : 
As  of  leaves  in  the  midmost  summer  ere  the  dusk  of  the  even  warm, 
When  the  winds  in  the  hillsides  gathered  go  forth  before  the  storm ; 
Men  abode,  and  a  wicket  opened  on  the  feast-hall's  inner  side 
And  the  Niblungs  looked  for  the  coming  of  King  Atli  in  his  pride : 
But  one  man  entered  only,  and  he  thin  and  old  and  spare, 
A  swordless  man  and  a  little  —  yet  was  King  Atli  there. 
He  looked  not  once  on  the  Niblungs,  but  forth  to  the  high-seat  went. 
And  stood  aloof  from  Gudrun  with  his  eyes  to  the  hall-floor  bent : 
Thence  came  a  voice  from  his  lips,  and  men  heard,  for  the  hush  was  great, 
And  the  hearts  of  the  bold  were  astonished  'neath  the  overhanging  fate. 

"  Ye  are  come,  O  Kings  of  the  Niblungs,  ye  are  come,  O  slayers  of  men ! 
But  how  great,  and  where  is  the  ransom  that  shall  buy  your  departure  again  ? " 

Then  spake  the  wise-heart  Hogni :  "  Do  the  bidden  guests  so  long 
To  depart  to  the  night  and  the  silence  from  the  fire  and  the  wine  and  the  song  ? 
Fear  not !  the  feast  shall  be  merry,  and  here  we  abide  in  thine  hall. 
Till  thou  and  the  great  feast-master  shall  bid  the  best  befall." 

There  were  cries  of  men  in  the  city,  there  was  clang  and  clatter  of  steel. 
And  high  cried  the  thin-voiced  Atli,  the  lord  of  the  Eastland  weal  : 
"  Ye  are  come  in  your  pride,  O  Niblungs ;  but  this  day  of  days  is  mine : 
Will  ye  die  ?  will  ye  live  and  be  little  ?     Hear  now  the  token  and  sign  !  " 

Great  then  grew  the  voices  without,  with  one  name  was  the  city  filled. 
Yea,  all  the  world  it  might  be,  and  all  sounds  of  the  earth  were  stilled 
With  that  cry  of  the  name  of  Atli :  but  Gunnar  stood  for  a  space 
Till  the  cry  was  something  sunken,  then  he  put  back  the  helm  from  his  face 
And  spread  out  his  hands  before  him,  and  his  hands  were  empty  and  bare 


314  THE  STORY  OF  SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

As  he  stood  in  the  front  of  the  Niblungs  like  a  great  God  smiling  and  fair : 

"  We  shall  live  and  never  be  little,  we  shall  die  and  be  masters  of  fame : 
I  know,  not  thy  will,  O  Atli,  nor  what  thou  wouldst  with  thy  name." 

"Ye  shall  know  my  will,"  said  Atli,  "ye  shall  do  it,  or  do  no  more 
The  deeds  of  the  days  of  the  living :  ye  shall  render  the  garnered  store, 
Ye  shall  give  forth  the  Gold  of  Sigurd,  the  wealth  of  the  uttermost  strand 

"To  give  a  gift,"  cried  Hogni,  "we  came  to  King  Atli's  land : 

Tomorn  for  a  little  season  thou  shalt  be  the  richest  fool 

Of  all  kings  ever  told  of ;  and  the  rest  let  the  high  Gods  rule." 

"O  King  of  the  East,"  said  Gunnar,  "great  gifts  for  thee  draw  nigh, 
But  the  treasure  of  the  Niblungs  in  their  guarded  house  shall  lie." 

"  What  then  will  ye  do  ? "  quoth  Atli ;  "  have  ye  seen  the  fish  in  the  net  ? " 

"Eve  telleth  of  deeds,"  said  Gunnar,  "and  it  is  but  the  morning  as  yet." 

Said  Atli :  "  Yea,  will  ye  die  ?  are  there  no  deeds  left  you  to  do  ? " 

"We  shall  smite  with  the  sword,"  said  the  Niblung,  "and  tomorn  will  we 

*  [journey  anew." 

"  Craftsmaster  Hogni,"  said  Atli,  "  where  then  are  the  shifts  of  the  wise  ? " 

Said  Hogni :  "  To  smite  with  the  sword,  and  go  glad  from  the  country  of  lies." 

"  So  died  the  fool,"  said  Atli,  "  as  Hogni  dieth  today." 

**  Smote  the  blind  and  the  aimless,"  said  Hogni,  "  and  Baldur  passed  away." 

Said  Atli :  "  Yet  may  ye  live  in  the  wholesome  light  of  the  sun. 


BOOK  IV.    GUDRUN.  315 

And  your  latter  days  be  as  plenteous  as  the  deeds  your  hands  have  done." 

"  Dost  thou  hearken,  O  sword,"  said  Gunnar,  "  and  yet  thou  liest  in  peace  ? 
When  then  wilt  thou  look  on  the  daylight,  that  the  words  of  the  mocker  may 

[cease  ? " 
"Thou  Hogni  the  wise,"  said  Atli,  "art  thou  weary  of  wisdom  and  lore, 
Wilt  thou  die  with  these  fools  of  the  sword,  and  be  mocked  mid  the  blind  of 

[the  war  ? " 
"  Many  things  have  I  learned,"  said  Hogni,  "  but  today's  task,  easy  it  is ; 
For  men  die  every  hour  and  they  wage  no  master  for  this. 
—  Get  hence  thou  evil  King,  thou  liar  and  traitor  of  kings, 
Lest  the  edge  of  my  sword  be  thy  portion  and  not  the  ruddy  rings  1 " 

Then  Atli  shrank  from  before  him,  and  the  eyes  of  his  intent. 

And  no  more  words  he  cast  them,  but  forth  from  the  hall  he  went, 

And  again  were  the  Niblung  children  alone  in  the  hall  of  their  foes 

With  the  wan  and  silent  woman :  but  without  great  clamour  arose. 

And  the  clashing  of  steel  against  steel,  and  the  crying  of  man  unto  man. 

And  the  wind  of  that  summer  morning  through  the  Eastland  banners  ran : 

Then  so  loud  o'er  all  was  winded  a  mighty  horn  of  fight, 

That  unheard  were  the  shouts  of  the  Niblungs  as  Gunnar's  sword  leapt  white. 

But  Hogni  turned  to  the  great-one  who  the  Niblung  trumpet  bore. 

And  he  took  the  mighty  metal,  and  kissed  the  brass  of  war. 

And  its  shattering  blast  went  forward,  and  beat  back  from  the  gable-wall 

And  shook  the  ancient  timbers,  and  the  carven  work  of  the  hall : 

Then  it  was  to  the  Niblung  warriors  as  their  very  hearts  they  heard 

Cry  out,  not  glad  nor  sorry,  nor  hoping,  nor  afeard. 

But  touched  by  the  hand  of  Odin,  smit  with  foretaste  of  the  day. 

When  the  fire  shall  burn  up  fooling,  and  the  veil  shall  fall  away ; 

When  bare-faced,  all  unmingled,  shall  the  evil  stand  in  the  light. 

And  men's  deeds  shall  be  nothing  doubtful,  nor  the  foe  that  they  shall  smite. 

In  the  hall  was  the  voice  of  the  trumpet,  but  therein  might  it  nowise  abide, 


3i6  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD  THE  VOLSUNG. 

But  over  burg  and  lealand  it  spread  full  far  and  wide, 

And  strong  men  quaked  as  they  heard  it  in  the  guarded  chamber  of  stone 

And  the  lord  of  weaponed  kinsfolk  was  as  one  that  sitteth  alone 

In  a  land  by  the  foeman  wasted,  and  no  man  to  his  neighbour  spoke 

But  they  thought  on  the  death  of  Atli  and  the  slaughter  of  the  folk. 


Of  the  Battle  in  AtWs  Hall. 

Ye  shall  know  that  in  Atli'§  feast-hall  on  the  side  that  joined  the  house 
Were  many  carven  doorways  whose  work  was  glorious 
With  marble  stones  and  gold-work,  and  their  doors  of  beaten  brass  : 
Lo  now,  in  the  merry  morning  how  the  story  cometh  to  pass ! 

—  While  the  echoes  of  the  trumpet  yet  fill  the  people's  ears. 

And  Hogni  casts  by  the  war-horn,  and  his  Dwarf -wrought  sword  uprears, 

All  those  doors  aforesaid  open,  and  in  pour  the  streams  of  steel. 

The  best  of  the  Eastland  champions,  the  bold  men  of  Atli's  weal : 

They  raise  no  cry  of  battle  nor  cast  forth  threat  of  woe. 

And  their  helmed  and  hidden  faces  from  each  other  none  may  know : 

Then  a  light  in  the  hall  ariseth,  and  the  fire  of  battle  runs 

All  adown  the  front  of  the  Niblungs  in  the  face  of  the  mighty-ones ; 

All  eyes  are  set  upon  them,  hard  drawn  is  every  breath. 

Ere  the  foremost  points  be  mingled  and  death  be  blent  with  death. 

—  All  eyes  save  the  eyes  of  Hogni  j  but  e'en  as  the  edges  meet. 
He  turneth  about  for  a  moment  to  the  gold  of  the  kingly  seat. 
Then  aback  to  the  front  of  battle ;  there  then,  as  the  lightning-flash 
Through  the  dark  night  showeth  the  city  when  the  clouds  of  heaven  clash, 
And  the  gazer  shrinketh  backward,  yet  he  seeth  from  end  to  end 

The  street  and  the  merry  market,  and  the  windows  of  his  friend. 

And  the  pavement  where  his  footsteps  yestre'en  returning  trod. 

Now  white  and  changed  and  dreadful  'neath  the  threatening  voice  of  God; 

So  Hogni  seeth  Gudrun,  and  the  face  he  used  to  know, 

Unspeakable,  unchanging,  with  white  unknitted  brow 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  317 

With  half-closed  lips  untrembling,  with  deedless  hands  and  cold 
Laid  still  on  knees  that  stir  not,  and  the  linen's  moveless  fold. 

Turned  Hogni  unto  the  spear-wall,  and  smote  from  where  he  stood, 
And  hewed  with  his  sword  two-handed  as  the  axe-man  in  a  wood  : 
Before  his  sword  was  a  champion  and  the  edges  clave  to  the  chin, 
And  the  first  man  fell  in  the  feast-hall  of  those  that  should  fall  therein. 
Then  man  with  man  was  dealing,  and  the  Niblung  host  of  war 
Was  swept  by  the  leaping  iron,  as  the  rock  anigh  the  shore 
By  the  ice-cold  waves  of  winter :  yet  a  moment  Gunnar  stayed, 
As  high  in  his  hand  unbloodied  he  shook  his  awful  blade ; 
And  he  cried : 

"  O  Eastland  champions,  do  ye  behold  it  here. 
The  sword  of  the  ancient  Giuki  ?     Fall  on  and  have  no  fear. 
But  slay  and  be  slain  and  be  famous,  if  your  master's  will  it'be ! 
Yet  are  we  the  blameless  Niblungs,  and  bidden  guests  are  we : 
So  forbear,  if  ye  wander  hood-winked,  nor  for  nothing  slay  and  be  slain ; 
For  I  know  not  what  to  tell  you  of  the  dead  that  live  again." 

So  he  saith  in  the  midst  of  the  foemen  with  his  war-flame, reared  on  high, 

But  all  about  and  around  him  goes  up  a  bitter  cry 

From  the  iron  men  of  Atli,  and  the  bickering  of  the  steel 

Sends  a  roar  up  to  the  roof-ridge,  and  the  Niblung  war-ranks  reel 

Behind  the  steadfast  Gunnar :  but  lo,  have  ye  seen  the  corn. 

While  yet  men  grind  the  sickle,  by  the  wind-streak  overborne 

When  the  sudden  rain  sweeps  downv*a-d,  and  summer  groweth  black, 

And  the  smitten  wood-side  roareth  'neath  the  driving  thunder-wrack  ? 

So  before  the  wise-heart  Hogni  shrank  the  champions  of  the  East 

As  his  great  voice  shook  the  timbers  in  the  hall  of  Atli's  feast,      [stopped  j 

There  he  smote  and  beheld  not  the  smitten,  and  by  nought  were  his  edges 

He  smote  and  the  dead  were  thrust  from  him ;  a  hand  with  its  shield  he  lopped ; 

There  met  him  Atli's  marshal,  and  his  arm  at  the  shoulder  he  shred ; 

Thi  ee  swords  were  upreared  against  him  of  the  best  of  the  kin  of  the  dead  ; 


3i8  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

And  he  struck  off  a  head  to  the  rightward,  and  his  sword  through  a  throat 

he  thrust, 
But  the  third  stroke'fell  on  his  helm-crest,  and  he  stooped  to  the  ruddy  dust, 
And  uprose  as  the  ancient  Giant,  and  both  his  hands  were  wet : 
Red  then  was  the  world  to  his  eyen,  as  his  hand  to  the  labour  he  set ; 
Swords  shook  and  fell  in  his  pathway,  huge  bodies  leapt  and  fell. 
Harsh  grided  shield  and  war-helm  like  the  tempest-smitten  bell. 
And  the  war-cries  ran  together,  and  no  man  his  brother  knew. 
And  the  dead  men  loaded  the  living,  as  he  went  the  war-wood  through ; 
And  man  'gainst  man  was  huddled,  till  no  sword  rose  to  smite. 
And  clear  stood  the  glorious  Hogni  in  an  island  of  the  fight. 
And  there  ran  a  river  of  death  'twixt  the  Niblung  and  his  foes 
And  therefrom  the  terror  of  men  and  the  wrath  of  the  Gods  arose. 

Now  fell  the  sword  of  Gunnar  and  rose  up  red  in  the  air, 

And  hearkened  the  song  of  the  Niblung,  as  his  voice  rang  glad  and  clear, 

And  rejoiced  and  leapt  at  the  Eastmen,  and  cried  as  it  met  the  rings 

Of  a  giant  of  King  Atli,  and  a  murder-wolf  of  kings ; 

But  it  quenched  its  thirst  in  his  entrails,  and  knew  the  heart  in  his  breast, 

And  hearkened  the  praise  of  Gunnar,  and  lingered  not  to  rest, 

But  fell  upon  Atli's  brother  and  stayed  not  in  his  brain ; 

Then  he  fell  and  the  King  leapt  over,  and  clave  a  neck  atwain. 

And  leapt  o'er  the  sweep  of  a  pole-axe  and  thrust  a  lord  in  the  throat 

And  King  Atli's  banner-bearer  through  shield  and  hauberk  smote ;   [drave 

Then  he  laughed  on  the  huddled  East-folk,  and  against  their  war-shields 

While  the  white  swords  tossed  about  him,  and  that  archer's  skull  he  clave 

Whom  Atli  had  bought  in  the  Southlands  for  many  a  pound  of  gold ; 

And  the  dark-skinned  fell  upon  Gunnar  and  over  his  war-shield  rolled 

And  cumbered  his  sword  for  a  season,  and  the  many  blades  fell  on, 

And  sheared  the  cloudy  helm-crest  and  rents  in  his  hauberk  won. 

And  the  red  blood  ran  from  Gunnar ;  till  that  Giuki's  sword  outburst, 

As  the  fire-tongue  from  the  smoulder  that  the  leafy  heap  hath  nursed, 

And  unshielded  smote  King  Gunnar,  and  sent  the  Niblung  song 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  319 

Througn  the  quaking  stems  of  battle  in  the  hall  of  Atli's  wrong . 

Then  he  rent  the  knitted  war-hedge  till  by  Hogni's  side  he  stood, 

And  kissed  him  amidst  of  the  spear-hail,  and  their  cheeks  were  wet  with  blood. 

Then  on  came  the  Niblung  bucklers,  and  they  drave  the  East-folk  home 

As  the  bows  of  the  oar-driven  long-ship  beat  off  the  waves  in  foam : 

They  leave  their  dead  behind  them,  and  they  come  to  the  doors  and  the  wall, 

And  a  few  last  spears  from  the  fleeing  amidst  their  shield-hedge  fall : 

But  the  doors  clash  to  in  their  faces,  as  the  fleeing  rout  they  drive, 

And  fain  would  follow  after ;  and  none  is  left  alive 

In  the  feast-hall  of  King  Atli,  save  those  fishes  of  the  net, 

And  the  white  and  silent  woman  above  the  slaughter  set. 

Then  biddeth  the  heart-wise  Hogni,  and  men  to  the  windows  climb, 
And  uplift  the  war-grey  corpses,  dead  drift  of  the  stormy  time. 
And  cast  them  adown  to  their  people  :  thence  they  come  aback  and  say 
That  scarce  shall  ye  see  the  houses,  and  no  whit  the  wheel-worn  way 
For  the  spears  and  shields  of  the  Eastlands  that  the  merchant  city  throng  j 
And  back  to  the  Niblung  burg-gate  the  way  seemed  weary-long. 

Yet  passeth  hour  on  hour,  and  the  doors  they  watch  and  ward 
But  a  long  while  hear  no  mail-clash,  nor  the  ringing  of  the  sword ; 
Then  droop  the  Niblung  children,  and  their  wounds  are  waxen  chill, 
And  they  think  of  the  Burg  by  the  river,  and  the  builded  holy  hill. 
And  their  eyes  are  set  on  Gudrun  as  of  men  who  would  beseech ; 
But  unlearned  are  they  in  craving  and  know  not  dastard's  speech. 
Then  doth  Giuki's  first-begotten  a  deed  most  fair  to  be  told. 
For  his  fair  harp  Gunnar  taketh,  and  the  warp  of  silver  and  gold ; 
With  the  hand  of  a  cunning  harper  he  dealeth  with  the  strings, 
And  his  voice  in  their  midst  goeth  upward,  as  of  ancient  days  he  singSf 
Of  the  days  before  the  Niblungs,  and  the  days  that  shall  be  yet ; 
Till  the  hour  of  toil  and  smiting  the  warrior  hearts  forget. 
Nor  hear  the  gathering  foemen,  nor  the  sound  of  swords  aloof : 


320  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Then  clear  the  song  of  Gunnar  goes  up  to  the  dusky  roof, 
And  the  coming  spear-host  tarries,  and  the  bearers  of  the  woe 
Through  the  cloisters  of  King  Atli  with  lingering  footsteps  go. 

But  Hogni  looketh  on  Gudrun,  and  no  change  in  her  face  he  sees, 
And  no  stir  in  her  folded  linen  and  the  deedless  hands  on  her  knees : 
Then  from  Gunnar's  side  he  hasteneth ;  and  lo,  the  open  door, 
And  a  foeman  treadeth  the  pavement,  and  his  lips  are  on  Atli's  floor, 
For  Hogni  is  death  in  the  doorway :  then  the  Niblungs  turn  on  the  foe, 
And  the  hosts  are  mingled  together,  and  blow  cries  out  on  blow. 

Still  the  song  goeth  up  from  Gunnar,  though  his  harp  to  earth  be  laid ; 

But  he  fighteth  exceeding  wisely,  and  is  many  a  warrior's  aid, 

And  he  shieldeth  and  delivereth,  and  his  eyes  search  through  the  hall, 

And  woe  is  he  for  his  fellows,  as  his  battle-brethren  fall ; 

For  the  turmoil  hideth  little  from  that  glorious  folk-king's  eyes. 

And  o'er  all  he  beholdeth  Gudrun,  and  his  soul  is  waxen  wise. 

And  he  saith :  We  shall  look  on  Sigurd,  and  Sigmund  of  old  days, 

And  see  the  boughs  of  the  Branstock  o'er  the  ancient  Volsung's  praise. 

Woe's  me  for  the  wrath  of  Hogni !     From  the  door  he  giveth  aback 

That  the  Eastland  slayers  may  enter  to  the  murder  and  the  wrack : 

Then  he  rageth  and  driveth  the  battle  to  the  golden  kingly  seat. 

And  the  last  of  the  foes  he  slayeth  by  Gudrun's  very  feet. 

That  the  red  blood  splasheth  her  raiment ;  and  his  own  blood  therewithal 

He  casteth  aloft  before  her,  and  the  drops  on  her  white  hands  fall : 

But  nought  she  seeth  or  heedeth,  and  again  he  turns  to  the  fight. 

Nor  heedeth  stroke  nor  wounding  so  he  a  foe  may  smite  : 

Then  the  battle  opens  before  him,  and  the  Niblungs  draw  to  his  side ; 

As  Death  in  the  world  first  fashioned,  through  the  feast-hall  doth  he  stride 

And  so  once  more  do  the  Niblungs  sweep  that  murder-flood  of  men 

From  the  hall  of  toils  and  treason,  and  the  doors  swing  to  again. 

Then  again  is  there  peace  for  a  little  within  the  fateful  fold ; 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  321 

But  the  Niblungs  look  about  them,  and  but  few  folk  they  behold 
Upright  on  their  feet  for  the  battle  :  now  they  climb  aloft  no  more, 
Nor  cast  the  dead  from  the  windows  ;  but  they  raise  a  rampart  of  war^ 
And  its  stones  are  the  fallen  East-folk,  and  no  lowly  wall  is  that. 

Therein  was  Gunnar  the  mighty :  on  the  shields  of  men  he  sat,  [ran^ 

And  the  sons  of  his  people  hearkened,  for  his  hand  through  the  harp-strings 
And  he  sang  in  the  hall  of  his  foeman  of  the  Gods  and  the  making  of  man, 
And  how  season  was  sundered  from  season  in  the  days  of  the  fashioning, 
And  became  the  Summer  and  Autumn,  and  became  the  Winter  and  Spring ; 
He  sang  of  men's  hunger  and  labour,  and  their  love  and  their  breeding  of 

broil, 
And  their  hope  that  is  fostered  of  famine,  and  their  rest  that  is  fashioned 

of  toil : 
Fame  then  and  the  sword  he  sang  of,  and  the  hour  of  the  hardy  and  wise, 
When  the  last  of  the  living  shall  perish,  and  the  first  of  the  dead  shall  arise, 
And  the  torch  shall  be  lit  in  the  daylight,  and  God  unto  man  shall  pray. 
And  the  heart  shall  cry  out  for  the  hand  in  the  fight  of  the  uttermost  day. 

So  he  sang,  and  beheld  not  Gudrun,  save  as  long  ago  he  saw 

His  sister,  the  little  jnaiden  of  the  face  without  a  flaw : 

But  wearily  Hogni  beheld  her^  and  no  change  in  her  face  there  was, 

And  long  thereon  gazed  Hogni,  and  set  his  brows  as  the  brass. 

Though  the  hands  of  the  King  were  weary,  and  weak  his  knees  were  grown, 

And  he  felt  as  a  man  unholpen  in  a  waste  land  wending  alone. 

Now  the  noon  was  long  passed  over  when  again  the  rumour  arose. 
And  through  the  doors  cast  open  flowed  in  the  river  of  foes  : 
They  flooded  the  hall  of  the  murder,  and  surged  round  that  rampart  of  dead ; 
No  war-duke  ran  before  them,  no  lord  to  the  onset  led, 
But  the  thralls  shot  spears  at  adventure,  and  shot  out  shafts  from  afar, 
Till  the  misty  hall  was  blinded  with  the  bitter  drift  of  war :  [acoldj 

Few  and  faint  were  the  Niblung  children,  and  their  wounds  were  waxen 
21 


322 


THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 


And  they  saw  the  Hell-gates  open  as  they  stood  in  their  grimly  hold : 

Yet  thrice  stormed  out  King  Hogni,  thrice  stormed  out  Gunnar  the  King, 

Thrice  fell  they  aback  yet  living  to  the  heart  of  the  fated  ring ; 

And  they  looked  and  their  band  was  little,  and  no  man  but  was  wounded  sore^ 

And  the  hall  seemed  growing  greater,  such  hosts  of  foes  it  bore, 

So  tossed  the  iron  harvest  from  wall  to  gilded  wall ; 

And  they  looked  and  the  white-clad  Gudrun  sat  silent  over  all. 

Then  the  churls  and  thralls  of  the  Eastland  howled  out  as  wolves  accurst, 

But  oft  gaped  the  Niblungs  voiceless,  for  they  choked  with  anger  and  thirst  j 

And  the  hall  grew  hot  as  a  furnace,  and  men  drank  their  flowing  blood, 

Men  laughed  and  gnawed  on  their  shield-rims,  men  knew  not  where  they 

And  saw  not  what  was  before  them  ;  as  in  the  dark  men  smote,        [stood, 

Men  died  heart-broken,  unsmitten ;  men  wept  with  the  cry  in  the  throat, 

Men  lived  on  full  of  war-shafts,  men  cast  their  shields  aside 

And  caught  the  spears  to  their  bosoms ;  men  rushed  with  none  beside. 

And  fell  unarmed  on  the  foemen,  and  tore  and  slew  in  death : 

And  still  down  rained  the  arrows  as  the  rain  across  the  heath ; 

Still  proud  o'er  all  the  turmoil  stood  the  Kings  of  Giuki  born. 

Nor  knit  were  the  brows  of  Gunnar,  nor  his  song-speech  overworn  j 

But  Hogni's  mouth  kept  silence,  and  oft  his  heart  went  forth 

To  the  long,  long  day  of  the  darkness,  and  the  end  of  worldly  worth. 

Loud  rose  the  roar  of  the  East-folk,  and  the  end  was  coming  at  last ; 
Now  the  foremost  locked  their  shield-rims  and  the  hindmost  over  them  cast, 
And  nigher  they  drew  and  nigher,  and  their  fear  was  fading  away, 
For  every  man  of  the  Niblungs  on  the  shaft-strewn  pavement  lay, 
Save  Gunnar  the  King  and  Hogni :  still  the  glorious  King  up-bore 
The  cloudy  shield  of  the  Niblungs  set  full  of  shafts  of  war ; 
But  Hogni's  hands  had  fainted,  and  his  shield  had  sunk  adown. 
So  thick  with  the  Eastland  spearwood  was  that  rampart  of  renown ; 
And  hacked  and  dull  were  the  edges  that  had  rent  the  wall  of  foes: 
Yet  he  stood  upright  by  Gunnar  before  that  shielded  close, 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  323 

Nor  looked  on  the  foemen's  faces  as  their  wild  eyes  drew  anear, 
And  their  faltering  shield-rims  clattered  with  the  remnant  of  their  fearj 
But  he  gazed  on  the  Niblung  woman,  and  the  daughter  of  his  folk, 
Who  sat  o'er  all  unchanging  ere  the  war-cloud  over  them  broke. 

Now  nothing  might  men  hearken  in  the  house  of  Atli's  weal, 

Save  the  feet  slow  tramping  onward,  and  the  rattling  of  the  steel, 

And  the  song  of  the  glorious  Gunnar,  that  rang  as  clearly  now 

As  the  speckled  storm-cock  singeth  from  the  scant-leaved  hawthorn-bough, 

When  the  sun  is  dusking  over  and  the  March  snow  pelts  the  land. 

There  stood  the  mighty  Gunnar  with  sword  and  shield  in  hand, 

There  stood  the  shieldless  Hogni  with  set  unangry  eyes. 

And  watched  the  wall  of  war-shields  o'er  the  dead  men's  rampart  rise, 

And  the  white  blades  flickering  nigher,  and  the  quavering  points  of  war. 

Then  the  heavy  air  of  the  feast-hall  was  rent  with  a  fearful  roar, 

And  the  turmoil  came  and  the  tangle,  as  the  wall  together  ran : 

But  aloft  yet  towered  the  Niblungs,  and  man  toppled  over  man, 

And  leapt  and  struggled  to  tear  them ;  as  whiles  amidst  the  sea 

The  doomed  ship  strives  its  utmost  with  mid-ocean's  mastery. 

And  the  tall  masts  whip  the  cordage,  while  the  welter  whirls  and  leaps, 

And  they  rise  and  reel  and  waver,  and  sink  amid  the  deeps : 

So  before  the  little-hearted  in  King  Atli's  murder-hall 

Did  the  glorious  sons  of  Giuki  'neath  the  shielded  onrush  fall : 

Sore  wounded,  bound  and  helpless,  but  living  yet,  they  lie 

Till  the  afternoon  and  the  even  in  the  first  of  night  shall  die. 


Of  the  Slaying  of  the  Niblung  Kings, 

Lo  now,  'tis  an  hour  or  twain,  and  a  labour  lightly  won 

By  the  serving-men  of  Atli,  and  the  Niblung  blood  is  gone 

From  the  golden  house  of  his  greatness,  and  the  Eastland  dead  no  more 

Lie  in  great  heaps  together  on  Atli's  mazy  floor : 


324  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Then  they  cast  fair  summer  blossoms  o'er  the  footprints  of  the  dead, 
They  wreathe  round  Atli's  high-seat  and  the  benches  fair  bespreid, 
And  they  light  the  odorous  torches,  and  the  sun  of  the  golden  roof, 
Till  the  candles  of  King  Atli  hold  dusky  night  aloof. 

So  they  toil  and  are  heavy-hearted,  nor  know  what  next  shall  betide, 
As  they  look  on  the  stranger-woman  in  the  heart  of  Atli's  pride. 

Now  stand  they  aback  for  the  trumpet  and  the  merry  minstrelsy, 
For  they  tremble  before  King  Atli,  and  golden-clad  is  he. 
And  his  golden  crown  is  heavy  and  he  strides  exceeding  slow,  [woe, 

With  the  wise  and  the  mighty  about  him,  through  the  house  of  the  Niblungs' 
There  then  by  the  Niblung  woman  on  the  throne  he  sat  him  down. 
And  folk  heard  the  gold  gear  tinkle  and  the  rings  of  the  Eastland  crown : 
Folk  looked  on  his  rich  adornment,  on  King  Atli's  pride  they  gazed. 
And  the  bright  beams  wearied  their  eyen,  by  the  glory  were  they  dazed  j 
There  the  councillors  kept  silence  and  the  warriors  clad  in  steel. 
All  men  lowly,  all  men  mighty,  that  had  care  of  Atli's  weal  j 
Yea  there  in  the  hall  were  they  waiting  for  the  word  to  come  from  his  lips, 
As  they  of  the  merchant-city  behold  the  shield-hung  ships 
Sweep  slow  through  the  windless  haven  with  their  gaping  heads  of  gold. 
And  they  know  not  their  nation  and  names,  nor  hath  aught  of  their  errand 

[been  told. 
But  King  Atli  looketh  before  him,  and  is  grown  too  great  to  rejoice, 
And  he  speaks  and  the  world  is  troubled,  though  thin  and  scant  be  his  voice  : 

"  Bring  forth  the  fallen  and  conquered,  bring  forth  the  bounden  thrall, 
That  they  who  were  once  the  Niblungs  did  once  King  Hogni  call." 

So  they  brought  him  fettered  and  bound  j  and  scarce  on  his  feet  he  stood 
But  men  stayed  him  up  by  the  King ;  for  the  sword  had  drunk  of  his  blood, 
And  the  might  of  his  body  had  failed  him,  and  yet  so  great  was  he 
That  the  East-folk  cowered  before  him  and  the  might  of  his  majesty. 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  325 

Then  spake  the  all-great  Atli:  "Thou  yielded  thrall  of  war, 

I  would  hear  thee  tell  of  the  Treasure,  the  Hoard  of  the  kings  of  yore ! " 

But  words  were  grown  heavy  to  Hogni,  and  scarce  he  spake  with  a  smile : 
"  Let  the  living  seek  their  desire ;  for  indeed  thou  shalt  live  for  a  while." 

"  Wilt  thou  speak  and  live,"  said  Atli,  "  nor  pay  for  the  blood  thou  hast  spilt  ? " 

Said  he :  "  Thou  art  waxen  so  mighty,  thou  mayst  have  the  Gold  when  thou 

[wilt." 
Said  the  King :  "  I  will  give  thee  thy  life,  and  forgive  thee  measureless  woe." 

"It  was  gathered  for  thee,"  said  Hogni,  "and  fashioned  long  ago.'' 

"  Speak,  man  overcome,"  quoth  Atli,  "Is  life  so  little  a  thing?  " 

"Art  thou  mighty  ?  put  forth  thine  hand  and  gather  the  Gold ! "  said  the  King. 

"  Wilt  thou  tell  of  the  Gold,"  said  the  East-King,  "  the  desire  of  many  eyes  ? ' 

"  Yea,  once  on  a  day,"  said  Hogni,  "  when  the  dead  from  the  sea  shall  arise.*' 

Said  he :  "  So  great  is  my  longing,  that,  O  foe,  I  would  have  thee  live, 
Yea  live  and  be  great  as  aforetime,  if  this  word  thou  yet  wouldst  give." 

Said  the  Niblung :  "  Thee  shall  I  heed,  or  the  longing  of  thy  pride } 

1,  who  heeded  Sigurd  nothing,  who  thrust  mine  oath  aside, 

When  the  years  were  young  and  goodly  and  the  summer  bore  increase ! 

Shall  I  crave  my  life  of  the  greedy  and  pray  for  days  of  peace  ? 

I,  who  whetted  the  sword  for  Sigurd,  and  bared  the  blade  in  the  morn, 

And  smote  ere  the  sun's  uprising,  and  left  my  sister  forlorn : 

'  Yea  Hied,'  quoth  the  God-loved  Singer, '  when  the  will  of  the  Gods  I  told  i 

—  Stretch  forth  thine  hand,  O  Mighty,  and  take  thy  Treasure  of  Gold  I " 


326  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Then  was  Atli  silent  a  little,  for  anger  dulled  his  thought, 
And  the  heaped-up  wealth  of  the  Eastland  seemed  an  idle  thing  and  nought 
He  turned  and  looked  upon  Gudrun  as  one  who  was  ain  to  beseech, 
But  he  saw  her  eyes  that  beheld  not,  and  her  lips  that  knew  no  speech, 
And  fear  shot  across  his  anger,  and  guile  with  his  wrath  was  blent, 
And  he  spake  aloud  to  the  war -lords : 

M  "  O  ye,  shall  the  eve  be  spent. 

Nor  behold  the  East  rejoicing  ?  what  a  mock  for  the  Gods  is  this. 
That  men  ever  care  for  the  morrow,  nor  nurse  their  toil-won  bliss  ! 
Lo  now,  this  hour  I  speak  in  is  the  first  of  the  seven  days'  feast, 
And  the  spring  of  our  exultation  o'er  the  glory  of  the  East : 
Draw  nigh,  O  wise,  O  mighty,  and  gather  words  to  praise 
The  hope  of  the  King  accomplished  in  the  harvest  of  his  days : 
Bear  forth  this  slave  of  the  Niblungs  to  the  pit  and  the  chamber  of  death 
That  he  hearken  the  council  of  night,  and  the  rede  that  tomorrow  saith, 
And  think  of  the  might  of  King  Atli,  and  his  hand  that  taketh  his  own. 
Though  the  hill-fox  bark  at  his  going,  and  his  path  with  the  bramble  be  grown/ 

So  they  led  the  Niblung  away  from  the  light  and  the  joy  of  the  feast, 
In  the  chamber  of  death  they  cast  him,  and  the  pit  of  the  Lord  of  the  East 
And  thralls  were  the  high  King's  warders ;  yet  sons  of  the  wise  withal 
Came  down  to  sit  with  Hogni  in  the  doomed  man's  darkling  hall ; 
For  they  looked  in  his  face  and  feared,  lest  Atli  smite  too  nigh 
The  kin  of  the  Gods  of  Heaven,  and  more  than  a  man's  child  die. 

But  'neath  the  golden  roof-sun,  at  beginning  of  the  night, 

Is  the  seven-days'  feast  of  triumph  in  the  hall  of  Atli  dight ; 

And  his  living  Earls  come  thither  in  peaceful  gold  attire. 

And  the  cups  on  the  East-King's  tables  shine  out  as  a  river  of  fire. 

And  sweet  is  the  song  of  the  harp-strings,  and  the  singers'  honeyed  »vords  j 

While  wide  through  all  the  city  do  wives  bewail  their  lords, 

And  curse  the  untimely  hour  and  the  day  of  the  land  forlorn, 

And  the  year  that  the  Earth  shall  rue  of,  and  children  never  born 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  3*7 

But  Atli  spake  to  his  thrall-folk,  and  they  went,  and  were  little  afraid 

To  take  the  glorious  Gunnar,  and  the  King  in  shackles  laid  : 

They  deemed  they  should  live  for  ever,  and  eat  and  sleep  as  the  swine, 

To  them  were  the  tales  of  the  singers  no  token  and  no  sign ; 

For  the  blossom  of  the  Niblungs  they  rolled  amid  the  dust, 

That  well-renowned  Gunnar  'neath  Atli's  chair  they  thrust ; 

The  feet  of  the  Eastland  liar  on  Gunnar's  neck  are  set, 

And  by  Atli  Gudrun  sitteth,  and  nought  she  stirreth  yet. 

Outbrake  the  glee  of  the  dastards,  and  they  that  had  not  dared 

To  meet  the  swords  of  the  Niblungs,  no  whit  the  God-folk  feared : 

They  forgat  that  the  Norns  were  awake,  and  they  praised  the  master  of  guile, 

The  war-spent  conquering  Atli  and  the  face  without  a  smile ; 

And  the  tumult  of  their  triumph  and  the  wordless  mingled  roar 

Went  forth  from  that  hall  of  the  Eastlands  and  smote  the  heavenly  floor. 

At  last  spake  Atli  the  mighty :  "  Stand  up,  thou  war-won  thrall. 
Whom  they  that  were  once  the  Niblungs  did  once  King  Gunnar  call ! " 

From  the  dust  they  dragged  up  Gunnar,  and  set  him  on  his  feet, 
And  the  heart  within  him  was  living  and  the  pride  for  a  war-king  meet ; 
And  his  glory  was  nothing  abated,  and  fair  he  seemed  and  young. 
As  the  first  of  the  Cloudy  Kings,  fresh  shoot  from  the  sower  sprung. 
But  Atli  looked  upon  him,  and  a  smile  smoothed  out  his  brow 
As  he  said :  "  What  thoughtest  thou,  Gunnar,  when  thou  layst  in  the  dust 

[e'en  now  ? " 
He  said :  "  Of  Valhall  I  thought,  and  the  host  of  my  fathers'  land. 
And  of  Hogni  that  thou  hast  slaughtered,  and  my  brother  Sigurd's  hand.'' 

Said  Atli:  "Think  of  thy  life,  and  the  days  that  shall  be  yet, 
A.nd  thyself,  maybe,  as  aforetime,  in  the  throne  of  thy  father  set." 

"  O  Eastland  liar,"  said  Gunnar,  "  no  more  will  I  live  and  rue." 


328  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Said  Atli :  "  The  word  I  have  spoken,  thy  word  may  yet  make  true." 

"  I  weary  of  speech,"  said  the  Niblung,  "  with  those  that  are  lesser  than  I. 

"  Yet  words  of  mine  shalt  thou  hearken,"  said  Atli,  "  or  ever  thou  die." 

"  So  crieth  the  fool,"  said  Gunnar,  "  on  the  God  that  his  folly  hath  slain.'' 

Said  Atli :  "  Forth  shall  my  word,  nor  yet  shall  be  gathered  again." 

"  Yet  meeter  were  thy  silence ;  for  thy  folk  make  ready  to  sing." 

"  O  Gunnar,  I  long  for  the  Gold  with  the  heart  and  the  will  of  a  king." 

[earth!" 
"This  were  good  to  tell,"  said  Gunnar,  "to  the  Gods  that  fashioned  the 

"  Make  me  glad  with  the  Gold,"  said  Atli,  "  live  on  in  honour  and  worth ! ' 

With  a  dreadful  voice  cried  Gunnar :  "  O  fool,  hast  thou  heard  it  told 

Who  won  the  Treasure  aforetime  and  the  ruddy  rings  of  the  Gold  ? 

It  was  Sigurd,  child  of  the  Volsungs,  the  best  sprung  forth  from  the  best : 

He  rode  from  the  North  and  the  mountains  and  became  my  summer-guest. 

My  friend  and  my  brother  sworn :  he  rode  the  Wavering  Fire, 

And  won  me  the  Queen  of  Glory  and  accomplished  my  desire ; 

The  praise  of  the  world  he  was,  the  hope  of  the  biders  in  wrong. 

The  help  of  the  lowly  people,  the  hammer  of  the  strong : 

Ah,  oft  in  the  world  henceforward,  shall  the  tale  be  told  of  the  deed, 

And  I,  e'en  I,  will  tell  it  in  the  day  of  the  Niblungs'  Need : 

For  I  sat  night-long  in  my  armour,  and  when  light  was  wide  o'er  the  land, 

I  slaughtered  Sigurd  my  brother,  and  looked  on  the  work  of  mine  hand. 

And  now,  O  mighty  Atli,  I  have  seen  the  Niblungs'  wreck. 

And  the  feet  of  the  faint-heart  dastard  have  trodden  Gunnar's  neck ; 

And  if  all  be  little  enough,  and  the  Gods  begrudge  me  rest, 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  3*9 

Let  me  see  the  heart  of  Hogni  cut  quick  from  his  living  breast, 

And  laid  on  the  dish  before  me :  and  then  shall  I  tell  of  the  Gold, 

And  become  thy  servant,  Atli,  and  my  life  at  thy  pleasure  hold. 

O  goodly  story  of  Gunnar,  and  the  King  of  the  broken  troth 

In  the  heavy  Need  of  the  Niblungs,  and  the  Sorrow  of  Odin  the  GothT'* 

Grim  then  waxed  Atli  bemocked,  yet  he  pondered  a  little  while, 

For  yet  with  his  bitter  anger  strove  the  hope  of  his  greedy  guile. 

And  as  one  who  falleth  a-dreaming  he  hearkened  Gunnar's  word. 

While  his  eyes  beheld  that  Treasure,  and  the  rings  of  the  Ancient  Hoard. 

But  he  spake  low-voiced  to  his  sword-carles,  and  they  heard  and  understood, 

And  departed  swift  from  the  feast-hall  to  do  the  work  he  would. 

To  the  chamber  of  death  they  gat  them,  to  the  pit  they  went  adown. 

And  saw  the  wise  men  sitting  round  the  war-king  of  renown  : 

Then  they  spake :  "  We  are  Atli's  bondmen,  and  Atli's  doom  we  bring : 

We  shall  carve  the  heart  from  thy  body,  and  thou  living  yet,  O  King." 

Then  Hogni  laughed,  for  they  feared  him ;  and  he  said :  "  Speed  ye  the  work ! 
For  fain  would  I  look  on  the  storehouse  where  such  marvels  used  to  lurk, 
And  the  forge  of  fond  desires,  and  the  nurse  of  life  that  fails. 
Take  heed  now !  deeds  are  doing  for  the  fashioners  of  tales." 

But  they  feared  as  they  looked  on  the  Niblung,  and  the  wise  men  hearkened 
And  bade  them  abide  for  a  season,  yea  even  for  Atli's  sake,  [and  spake, 
For  the  night-slaying  is  as  the  murder ;  and  they  looked  on  each  other  and 
For  Atli's  bitter  whisper  their  very  hearts  had  heard  :  [feared, 

Then  they  said  :  "  The  King  makes  merry,as  a  well  the  white  wine  springs, 
And  the  red  wine  runs  as  a  river ;  and  what  are  the  hearts  of  kings, 
That  men  may  know  them  naked  from  the  hearts  of  bond  and  thrall  ? 
Nor  go  we  empty-handed  to  King  Atli  in  his  hall." 

So  the  sword-carles  spake  to  each  other,  and  they  looked  and  a  man  they  saw 


330  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

Who  should  hew  the  wood  if  he  lived,  and  for  thralls  the  water  should  draw, 
A  thrall-born  servant  of  servants,  begetter  of  thralls  on  the  earth : 
And  they  said  :  "  If  this  one  were  away,  scarce  greater  were  waxen  the  dearth, 
That  this  morning  hath  wrought  on  the  Eastland ;  for  the  years  shall  eke  out 
And  no  day  his  toil  shall  lessen,  and  worse  and  worse  shall  he  grow."  [his  woe, 

They  drew  the  steel  new-whetted,  on  the  thrall  they  laid  the  hand ; 
For  they  said :  "  All  hearts  be  fashioned  as  the  heart  of  the  King  of  the  land." 
But  the  thrall  was  bewildered  with  anguish,  and  wept  and  bewailed  him  sore 
For  the  loss  of  his  life  of  labour,  and  the  grief  that  long  he  bore. 

But  wroth  was  the  son  of  Giuki  and  he  spake :  "  It  is  idle  and  vain. 
And  two  men  for  one  shall  perish,  and  the  knife  shall  be  whetted  again. 
It  is  better  to  die  than  be  sorry,  and  to  hear  the  trembling  cry, 
And  to  see  the  shame  of  the  poor :  O  fools,  must  the  lowly  die 
Because  kings  strove  with  swords  ?     I  bid  you  to  hasten  the  end, 
For  my  soul  is  sick  with  confusion,  and  fain  on  the  way  would  I  wend." 

But  the  life  of  the  thrall  is  over,  and  his  fearful  heart  they  set 

On  a  fair  wide  golden  platter,  and  bear  it  ruddy  wet 

To  the  throne  of  the  triumphing  East-King ;  he  looketh,  and  feareth  withal 

Lest  the  house  should  fail  about  him  and  the  golden  roof  should  fall : 

But  Gunnar  laughed  beside  him,  and  spake  o'er  the  laden  gold : 

'*  O  heart  of  a  feeble  trembler,  no  heart  of  Hogni  the  bold  ! 

A  gold  dish  bears  thee  quaking,  yet  indeed  thou  quakedst  more 

When  the  breast  of  the  helpless  dastard  the  burden  of  thee  bore." 

The  great  hall  was  smitten  silent  and  its  mirth  to  fear  was  turned, 
For  the  wrath  of  the  King  was  kindled,  and  the  eyes  of  Atli  burned, 
And  he  cried  as  they  trembled  before  him :  "  Let  me  see  the  heart  of  my  foe! 
Fear  ye  to  mock  King  Atli  till  his  head  in  the  dust  be  alow  1 " 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  33^ 

Then  the  sword-carles  flee  before  him,  and  are  angry  with  their  dread, 
For  they  fear  the  living  East-King  yet  more  than  the  Niblung  dead : 
They  come  to  the  pit  and  the  dead-house,  and  the  whetted  steel  they  bear  j 
They  are  pale  before  King  Hogni ;  as  winter-wolves  they  glare 
Whom  the  ravening  hunger  driveth,  when  the  chapmen  journey  slow. 
And  their  horses  faint  in  the  moon-dusk,  and  stumble  through  the  snow. 

But  Hogni  laugheth  before  them,  and  he  saith  :  "  Now  welcome  again, 
Now  welcome  again,  war-fellows !     Was  Atli  hood-winked  then  ? 
I  looked  that  ye  should  be  speedy ;  and,  forsooth,  ye  needs  must  haste, 
Lest  more  lives  than  one  this  even  for  Atli's  will  ye  waste." 

About  him  throng  the  sword-men,  and  they  shout  as  the  war-fain  cry 

In  the  heart  of  the  bitter  battle  when  their  hour  is  come  to  die, 

And  they  cast  themselves  upon  him,  as  on  some  wide-shielded  man 

That  fierce  in  the  storm  of  Odin  upreareth  edges  wan. 

With  the  bound  man  swift  is  the  steel :  sore  tremble  the  sons  of  the  wise, 

And  their  hearts  grow  faint  within  them  ;  yet  no  man  hideth  his  eyes 

As  the  edges  deal  with  the  mighty :  nor  dreadful  is  he  now,  [brow, 

For  the  mock  from  his  mouth  hath  faded,  and  the  threat  hath  failed  from  his 

And  his  face  is  as  great  and  Godlike  as  his  fathers  of  old  days, 

As  fair  as  an  image  fashioned  in  remembrance  of  their  praise : 

But  fled  is  the  spirit  of  Hogni,  and  every  deed  he  did, 

The  seed  of  the  world  it  lieth,  in  the  hand  of  Odin  hid. 

On  the  gold  is  the  heart  of  Hogni,  and  men  bear  it  forth  to  the  King, 
As  he  sits  in  the  hall  of  his  triumph  mid  the  glee  and  the  harp-playing : 
Lo,  the  heart  of  a  son  of  Giuki !  and  Gunnar  liveth  yet. 
And  the  white  unangry  Gudrun  by  the  Eastland  King  is  set : 
Upriseth  the  soul  of  Atli,  and  his  breast  is  swollen  with  pride. 
And  he  laughs  in  the  face  of  Gunnar  and  the  woman  set  by  his  side  • 
Then. he  looks  on  his  living  earls,  and  they  cast  their  cry  to  the  roof, 
And  it  clangs  o'er  the  woeful  city  and  wails  through  the  night  aloof ; 


332  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

All  the  world  of  man-folk  hearkeneth,  and  hath  little  joy  therein, 
Though  the  men  of  the  East  in  glory  high-tide  with  Atli  win. 

But  fair  is  the  face  of  Gunnar  as  the  token  draweth  anigh ; 
And  he  saith :  "  O  heart  of  Hogni,  on  the  gold  indeed  dost  thou  lie, 
And  as  little  as  there  thou  quakest  far  less  wert  thou  wont  to  quake 
When  thou  layst  in  the  breast  of  the  mighty,  and  wert  glad  for  his  gladness' 
And  wert  sorry  with  his  sorrow ;  O  mighty  heart,  farewell !  [sake, 

Farewell  for  a  little  season,  till  thy  latest  deed  I  tell." 

Then  was  Gunnar  silent  a  little,  and  the  shout  in  the  hall  had  died, 

And  he  spoke  as  a  man  awakening,  and  turned  on  Atli's  pride. 

"  Thou  all-rich  King  of  the  Eastlands,  e'en  such  a  man  might  I  be  1 

That  I  might  utter  a  word,  and  the  heart  should  be  glad  in  thee,  | 

And  I  should  live  and  be  sorry :  for  I,  I  only  am  left 

To  tell  of  the  ransom  of  Odin,  and  the  wealth  from  the  toiler  reft. 

Lo,  once  it  lay  in  the  water,  hid,  deep  adown  it  lay,  i 

Till  the  Gods  were  grieved  and  lacking,  and  men  saw  it  and  the  day :  j 

Let  it  lie  in  the  water  once  more,  let  the  Gods  be  rich  and  in  peace !  | 

But  I  at  least  in  the  world  from  the  words  and  the  babble  shall  cease."  i 


So  he  spake  and  Atli  beheld  him,  and  before  his  eyes  he  shrank : 

Still  deep  of  the  cup  of  desire  the  mighty  Atli  drank. 

And  to  overcome  seemed  little  if  the  Gold  he  might  not  have, 

And  his  hard  heart  craved  for  a  while  to  hold  the  King  for  a  slave, 

A  bondman  blind  and  guarded  in  his  glorious  house  and  great : 

But  he  thought  of  the  overbold,  and  of  kings  who  have  dallied  with  fate, 

And  died  bemocked  and  smitten ;  and  he  deemed  it  worser  than  well 

While  the  last  of  the  sons  of  Giuki  hangeth  back  from  his  journey  to  Hell 

So  he  turneth  away  from  the  stranger,  and  beholdeth  Gudrun  his  wife, 

Not  glad  nor  sorry  by  seeming,  no  stirrer  nor  stayer  of  strife  : 

Then  he  looked  at  his  living  earl-folk,  and  thought  of  his  groves  of  war. 

And  his  realm  and  the  kindred  nations,  and  his  measureless  guarded  store 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  333 

And  he  thought :  Shall  Atli  perish,  shall  his  name  be  cast  to  Jhe  dead, 
Though  the  feeble  folk  go  wailing?     Then  he  cried  aloud  and  said : 

"  Why  tarry  ye,  Sons  of  the  Morning  ?  the  wain  for  the  bondman  is  dight ; 
And  the  folk  that  are  waiting  his  body  have  need  of  no  sunshine  to  smite. 
Go  forth  'neath  the  stars  and  the  night-wind  ;  go  forth  by  the  cloud  and  the 

moon, 
And  come  back  with  the  word  in  the  dawning,  that  my  house  may  be  merry 

[at  noon ! " 
Then  the  sword-folk  rise  round  Gunnar,  round  the  fettered  and  bound  they 
As  men  in  the  bitter  battle  round  the  God-kin  over-strong;  [throng, 

They  bore  him  away  to  the  doorway,  and  the  winds  were  awake  in  the  night, 
And  the  wood  of  the  thorns  of  battle  in  the  moon  shone  sharp  and  bright  ; 
But  Gunnar  looked  to  the  heavens,  and  blessed  the  promise  of  rain, 
And  the  windy  drift  of  the  clouds,  and  the  dew  on  the  builded  wain : 
And  the  sword-folk  tarried  a  little,  and  the  sons  of  the  wise  were  there. 
And  beheld  his  face  o'er  the  war-helms,  and  the  wavy  night  of  his  hair. 
Then  they  feared  for  the  weal  of  Atli,  and  the  Niblung's  harp  they  brought, 
And  they  dealt  with  the  thralls  of  the  sword,  and  commanded  and  besought, 
Till  men  loosened  the  gyves  of  Gunnar,  and  laid  the  harp  by  his  side. 
Then  the  yoke-beasts  lowed  in  the  forecourt  and  the  wheels  of  the  waggon 

cried, 
And  the  war -thorns  clashed  in  the  night,  and  the  men  went  dark  on  their  way, 
And  the  city  was  silent  before  them,  on  the  roofs  the  white  moon  lay. 

Now  they  left  the  gate  and  the  highway,  and  came  to  a  lonely  place. 
Where  the  sun  all  day  had  been  shining  on  the  desert's  empty  face ; 
Then  the  moon  ran  forth  from  a  cloud,  the  grey  light  shone  and  showed 
The  pit  of  King  Atli's  adders  in  the  land  without  a  road. 
Digged  deep  adown  in  the  desert  with  shining  walls  and  smooth 
For  the  Serpents'  habitation,  and  the  folk  that  know  not  ruth. 
Therein  they  thrust  King  Gunnar,  and  he  bare  of  his  kingly  weed,     [freed ; 
But  they  gave  his  harp  to  the  Niblung,  and  his  hands  of  the  gyves  they 


334  THE   STORY   OF    SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

They  stood  around  in  their  war-gear  to  note  what  next  should  befall 
For  the  comfort  of  King  Atli,  and  the  glee  of  the  Eastland  hall. 

Still  hot  was  that  close  with  the  sun,  and  thronged  with  the  coiling  folk, 

And  about  the  feet  of  Gunnar  their  hissing  mouths  awoke  :  [ran 

But  he  heeded  them  not  nor  beheld  them,  and  his  hands  in  the  harp-strings 

As  he  sat  him  down  in  the  midmost  on  a  sun-scorched  rock  and  wan : 

And  he  sighed  as  one  who  resteth  on  a  flowery  bank  by  the  way 

When  the  wind  is  in  the  blossoms  at  the  even-tide  of  day : 

But  his  harp  was  murmuring  low,  and  he  mused :  Am  I  come  to  the  death, 

And  I,  who  was  Gunnar  the  Niblung  ?  nay,  nay,  how  I  draw  my  breath, 

And  love  my  life  as  the  living !  and  so  I  ever  shall  do, 

Though  wrack  be  loosed  in  the  heavens  and  the  world  be  fashioned  anew. 

But  the  worms  were  beholding  their  prey,  and  they  drew  around  and  nigher, 
Smooth  coil,  and  flickering  tongue,  and  eyes  as  the  gold  in  the  fire ; 
And  he  looked  and  beheld  them  and  spake,  nor  stilled  his  harp  meanwhile  : 
"  What  will  ye,  O  thralls  of  Atli,  O  images  of  guile  ? " 

Then  he  rose  at  once  to  his  feet,  and  smote  the  harp  with  his  hand, 
And  it  rang  as  if  with  a  cry  in  the  dream  of  a  lonely  land ; 
Then  he  fondled  its  wail  as  it  faded,  and  orderly  over  the  strings 
Went  the  marvellous  sound  of  its  sweetness,  like  the  march  of  Odin's  kings 
New-risen  for  play  in  the  morning  when  o'er  meadows  of  God-home  they 
And  hero  playeth  with  hero,  that  their  hands  may  be  deft  in  the  end.    [wend, 
But  the  crests  of  the  worms  were  uplifted,  though  coil  on  coil  was  stayed, 
And  they  moved  but  as  dark-green  rushes  by  the  summer  river  swayed. 
Then  uprose  the  Song  of  Gunnar,  and  sang  o'er  his  crafty  hands,  i 

And  told  of  the  World  of  Aforetime,  unshapen,  void  of  lands ; 
Yet  it  wrought,  for  its  memory  bideth,  and  it  died  and  abode  its  doom ; 
It  shaped,  and  the  Upper-Heavens,  and  the  hope  came  forth  from  its  womb. 

Great  then  grew  the  voice  of  Gunnar,  and  his  speech  was  sweet  on  the  wild 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  335 

A.nd  the  moon  on  his  harp  was  shining,  and  the  hands  of  the  Niblung  child : 

"  So  perished  the  Gap  of  the  Gaping,  and  the  cold  sea  swayed  and  sang, 
And  the  wind  came  down  on  the  waters,  and  the  beaten  rock-walls  rang ; 
Then  the  Sun  from  the  south  came  shining,  and  the  Starry  Host  stood  round, 
And  the  wandering  Moon  of  the  heavens  his  habitation  found ; 
And  they  knew  not  why  they  were  gathered,  nor  the  deeds  of  their  shaping 

they  knew : 
But  lo,  Mid-Earth  the  Noble  'neath  their  might  and  their  glory  grew, 
And  the  grass  spread  over  its  face,  and  the  Night  and  the  Day  were  bom, 
And  it  cried  on  the  Death  in  the  even,  and  it  cried  on  the  Life  in  the  morn : 
Yet  it  waxed  and  waxed,  and  knew  not,  and  it  lived  and  had  not  learned ; 
And  where  were  the  Framers  that  framed,  and  the  Soul  and  the  Might  that 

[had  yearned  ? 
"  On  the  Thrones  are  the  Powers  that  fashioned,  and  they  name  the  Night 

and  the  Day, 
And  the  tide  of  the  Moon's  increasing,  and  the  tide  of  his  waning  away : 
And  they  name  the  years  for  the  story ;  and  the  Lands  they  change  and  change. 
The  great  and  the  mean  and  the  little,  that  this  unto  that  may  be  strange : 
They  met,  and  they  fashioned  dwellings,  and  the  House  of  Glory  they  built ; 
They  met,  and  they  fashioned  the  Dwarf-kind,  and  the  Gold  and  the  Gifts 

[and  the  Guilt. 
"  There  were  twain,  and  they  went  upon  earth,  and  were  speechless  un- 

mighty  and  wan ; 
They  were  hopeless,  deathless,  lifeless,  and  the  Mighty  named  them  Man: 
Then  they  gave  them  speech  and  power,  and  they  gave  them  colour  and 

breath ; 
And  deeds  and  the  hope  they  gave  them,  and  they  gave  them  Life  and 

Death : 
Yea  hope,  as  the  hope  of  the  Framers ;  yea,  might,  as  the  Fashioners  had. 
Till  they  wrought,  and  rejoiced  in  their  bodies,  and  saw  their  sons  and 

were  glad : 
And  they  changed  their  lives  and  departed,  and  came  back  as  the  leavei 

of  the  trees 


336  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

Come  back  and  increase  in  the  summer :  —  and  I,  I,  I  am  of  these ; 
And  I  know  of  Them  that  have  fashioned,  and  the  deeds  that  have  bios 

somed  and  grow; 
But  nought  of  the  Gods'  repentance,  or  the  Gods  undoing  I  know.'' 

Then  falleth  the  speech  of  Gunnar,  and  his  lips  the  word  forget, 
But  his  crafty  hands  are  busy,  and  the  harp  is  murmuring  yet. 

[still, 
And  the  crests  of  the  worms  have  fallen,  and  their  flickering  tongues  are 
The  Roller  and  the  Coiler,  and  Greyback,  lord  of  ill, 
Grave-groper  and  Death-swaddler,  the  Slumberer  of  the  Heath, 
Gold-wallower,  Venom-smiter,  lie  still,  forgetting  death. 
And  loose  are  coils  of  Long-back ;  yea  all  as  soft  are  laid 
As  the  kine  in  midmost  summer  about  the  elmy  glade ; 
—  All  save  the  Grey  and  Ancient,  that  holds  his  crest  aloft. 
Light-wavering  as  the  flame-tongue  when  the  evening  wind  is  soft : 
For  he  comes  of  the  kin  of  the  Serpent  once  wrought  all  wrong  to  n^irse, 
The  bond  of  earthly  evil,  the  Midworld's  ancient  curse. 

But  Gunnar  looked  and  considered,  and  wise  and  wary  he  grew, 
And  the  dark  of  night  was  waning  and  chill  in  the  dawning  it  grew ; 
But  his  hands  were  strong  and  mighty  and  the  fainting  harp  he  woke. 
And  cried  in  the  deadly  desert,  and  the  song  from  his  soul  out-broke : 

"  O  Hearken,  Kindreds  and  Nations,  and  all  Kings  of  the  plenteous  earth. 
Heed,  ye  that  shall  come  hereafter,  and  are  far  and  far  from  the  birth ! 
I  have  dwelt  in  the  world  aforetime,  and  I  called  it  the  garden  of  God ; 
I  have  stayed  my  heart  with  its  sweetness,  and  fair  on  its  freshness  I  trod ; 
I  have  seen  its  tempest  and  wondered,  I  have  cowered  adown  from  its  rain, 
And  desired  the  brightening  sunshine,  and  seen  it  and  been  fain ; 
I  have  waked,  time  was,  in  its  dawning;  its  noon  and  its  even  I  wore; 
I  have  slept  unafraid  of  its  darkness,  and  the  days  have  been  many  and 
more: 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  337 

I  have  dwelt  with  the  deeds  of  the  mighty ;  I  have  woven  the  web  of  the 

sword ; 
I  have  borne  up  the  guilt  nor  repented ;  I  have  sorrowed  nor  spoken  the 

word; 
And  I  fought  and  was  glad  in  the  morning,  and  I  sing  in  the  night  and  the 

end: 
So  let  him  stand  forth,  the  Accuser,  and  do  on  the  death-shoon  to  wend ; 
For  not  here  on  the  earth  shall  I  hearken,  nor  on  earth  for  the  dooming 

shall  stay, 
Nor  stretch  out  mine  hand  for  the  pleading ;  for  I  see  the  spring  of  the  day 
Round  the  doors  of  the  golden  Valhall,  and  I  see  the  mighty  arise. 
And  I  hearken  the  voice  of  Odin,  and  his  mouth  on  Gunnar  cries. 
And  he  nameth  the  Son  of  Giuki,  and  cries  on  deeds  long  done. 
And  the  fathers  of  my  fathers,  and  the  sons  of  yore  agone. 

"O  Odin,  I  see,  and  I  hearken;  but,  lo  thou,  the  bonds  on  my  feet. 
And  the  walls  of  the  wilderness  round  me,  ere  the  light  of  thy  land  I  meet ! 
I  crave  and  I  weary,  AUfather,  and  long  and  dark  is  the  road ;  [load.' 

And  the  feet  of  the  mighty  are  weakened,  and  the  back  is  bent  with  the 

Then  fainted  the  song  of  Gunnar,  and  the  harp  from  his  hand  fell  down, 
And  he  cried :  "  Ah,  what  hath  betided  ?  for  cold  the  world  hath  grown. 
And  cold  is  the  heart  within  me,  and  my  hand  is  heavy  and  strange ; 
What  voice  is  the  voice  I  hearken  in  the  chill  and  the  dusk  and  the  change  ? 
Where  art  thou,  God  of  the  war-fain  ?  for  this  is  the  death  indeed ; 
And  I  unsworded,  unshielded,  in  the  Day  of  the  Niblungs'  Need ! " 

He  fell  to  the  earth  as  he  spake,  and  life  left  Gunnar  the  King, 
For  his  heart  was  chilled  for  ever  by  the  sleepless  serpent's  sting. 
The  grey  Worm,  Great  and  Ancient  —  and  day  in  the  East  began. 
And  the  moon  was  low  in  the  heavens,  and  the  light  clouds  over  him  ran. 

22 


338  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 


The  Ending  of  Gudrun. 

Men  sleep  in  the  dwelling  of  Atli  through  the  latter  hours  of  night 

Though  the  comfortless  women  be  wailing  as  they  that  love  not  light ; 

Men  sleep  in  the  dawning-hour,  and  bowed  down  is  Atli's  head 

Amidst  the  gold  and  the  purple,  and  the  pillows  of  his  bed: 

But  hark,  ere  the  sun's  uprising,  when  folk  see  colours  again, 

Is  the  trample  of  steeds  in  the  forecourt,  and  the  noise  of  steel  and  of  men ; 

And  Atli  wakeneth  and  riseth,  and  is  clad  in  purple  and  pall, 

And  he  goeth  forth  from  the  chamber  and  meeteth  his  earls  in  the  hall 

A  king  full  great  and  mighty,  if  a  great  king  ever  hath  been  ; 

And  over  his  head  on  the  high-seat  still  sitteth  Gudrun  the  Queen. 

[East  ? 
Then  he  said :  "  Whence  come  ye,  children,  whence  come  ye.  Lords  of  the 
Shall  today  be  for  evil  and  mourning  or  a  day  of  joyance  and  feast  ? " 

They  said :  "  Today  shall  be  wailing  for  the  foes  of  the  Eastland  kin ; 
But  for  them  that  love  King  Atli  shall  the  day  of  feasts  begin : 
For  we  come  from  the  land  deserted,  and  the  heath  without  a  way, 
And  now  are  the  earth's  folk  telling  of  the  Niblungs  passed  away." 

[dooi, 
Then  King  Atli  turned  unto  Gudrun,  and  the  new  sun  shone  through  the 
The  long  beams  fell  from  the  mountains  and  lighted  Atli's  floor: 
Then  he  cried  :  "  Lo,  the  day-light,  Gudrun  !  and  the  Cloudy  Folk  is  gone  \ 
There  is  glory  now  in  the  Eastland,  and  thy  lord  is  king  alone." 

But  Gudrun  rose  from  the  high-seat,  and  her  eyes  on  the  King  she  turned ; 
And  he  stood  rejoicing  before  her,  and  his  crown  in  the  sunlight  burned, 
With  the  golden  gear  was  he  swaddled,  and  he  held  the  red-gold  rod 
That  the  Kings  of  the  East  had  carried  since  first  they  came  from  God  : 
Down  she  came,  and  men  kept  silence,  and  the  earls  beheld  her  face, 
As  her  raiment  rustled  about  her  in  the  morning-joyous  place  ; 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  339 

So  she  stood  amidst  of  the  sun-beams,  by  King  Atli's  board  she  stood, 
And  men  looked  and  wondered  at  her,  would  she  speak  them  ill  or  good : 
She  wept  not,  and  she  sighed  not,  nor  smiled  in  the  stranger  land, 
But  she  stood  before  King  Atli,  and  the  cup  was  in  her  hand. 

[prevail, 
Then  she  spake :  "  Take,  King,  and  drink  it !  for  earth's  mightiest  men 
And  to  thee  is  the  praise  and  the  glory,  and  the  ending  of  the  tale : 
There  are  men  to  the  dead  land  faring,  but  the  dark  o'er  their  heads  is  deepj 
They  cry  not,  they  return  not,  and  no  more  renown  they  reap ; 
But  we  do  our  will  without  them,  nor  fear  their  speech  or  frown ; 
And  glad  shall  be  our  uprising,  and  light  our  lying-down." 

She  said :  "  A  maid  of  maidens  my  mother  reared  me  erst ; 
By  the  side  of  the  glorious  Gunnar  my  early  days  were  nursed ; 
By  the  side  of  the  heart-wise  Hogni  I  went  from  field  to  flower, 
Joy  rose  with  the  sun's  uprising,  nor  sank  in  the  twilight  hour ; 
Kings  looked  and  laughed  upon  us  as  we  played  with  the  golden  toy ; 
And  oft  our  hands  were  meeting  as  we  mingled  joy  with  joy." 

More  she  spake :  "  O  King  command  me  !  for  women's  knees  are  weak, 
And  their  feet  are  little  steadfast,  and  their  hands  for  comfort  seek : 
On  the  earth  the  blossom  falleth,  when  the  branch  is  dried  with  day, 
And  the  vine  to  the  elm-bough  clingeth  when  men  smite  the  roots  away. ' 

Then  drank  the  Eastland  Atli  as  he  looked  in  Gudrun's  face. 

And  beheld  no  wrath  against  him,  and  no  hate  of  the  coming  days ; 

Then  he  spake :  "  O  mighty  woman,  this  day  the  feast  shall  be 

For  the  heritance  of  Atli,  and  the  gain  of  mine  and  me : 

For  this  day  the  Eastland  people  such  great  dominion  win, 

That  a  world  to  their  will  new-fashioned  'neath  their  glory  shall  begin. 

Yet,  since  the  mighty  are  fallen,  and  kings  are  gone  from  earth, 

Let  these  at  the  feast  be  remembered,  and  their  ancient  deeds  of  worth. 

So  I  bid  thee,  O  King's  Daughter,  sit  by  Atli  at  the  feast 


340  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

To  praise  thy  kin  departed  and  Atli's  weal  increased ; 
And  the  heirship-feast  and  the  death-feast  today  shall  be  as  one ; 
And  then  shalt  thou  wake  tomorrow  with  all  thy  mourning  done, 
And  all  thy  will  accomplished,  and  thy  glory  great  and  sure, 
That  for  ever  and  for  ever  shall  the  tale  thereof  endure." 

He  spake  in  the  sunny  morning,  and  Gudrun  answered  and  said : 
"Thou  hast  bidden  me  feast,  O  Atli,  and  thy  will  shall  be  obeyed : 
And  well  I  thank  thee,  great-one,  for  the  gifts  thine  hand  would  give ; 
For  who  shall  gainsay  the  mighty,  and  the  happy  Kings  that  live  ?     [thee : 
Thou  hast  swallowed  the  might  of  the  Niblungs,  and  their  glory  lieth  in 
Live  long,  and  cherish  thy  wealth,  that  the  world  may  wonder  and  see !  " 

Therewith  to  the  bower  of  queens  the  Niblung  wendeth  her  way 

And  in  all  the  glory  of  women  the  folk  her  body  array ; 

Forth  she  comes  with  the  crown  on  her  head  and  the  ivory  rod  in  her  hand, 

With  queens  for  her  waiting-women,  and  the  hope  of  many  a  land  : 

There  she  goes  in  that  wonder  of  houses  when  the  high-tide  of  Atli  is  dight 

And  her  face  is  as  fair  as  the  sea,  and  her  eyen  are  glittering  bright. 

By  Atli's  side  she  sitteth,  o'er  the  earls  they  twain  are  set, 

And  shields  of  the  ancient  wise-ones  on  the  wall  are  hanging  yet, 

And  the  golden  sun  of  the  roof-sky,  the  sun  of  Atli's  pride, 

Through  the  beams  where  day  but  glimmers  casts  red  light  far  and  wide : 

The  beakers  clash  thereunder,  the  red  wine  murmureth  speech, 

And  the  eager  long-beard  warriors  cast  praises  each  to  each 

Of  the  blossoming  tree  of  the  Eastland :  —  and  tomorrow  shall  be  as  today, 

Yea  even  more  abundant,  and  all  foes  have  passed  away. 

It  was  then  in  the  noon-tide  moment ;  o'er  the  earth  high  hung  the  sun. 
When  the  song  o'er  the  mighty  Niblungs  in  a  stranger-house  was  begun, 
And  their  deeds  were  told  by  the  foemen,  and  the  names  of  hope  they  had 
Rang  sweet  in  the  hall  of  the  murder  to  make  King  Atli  glad : 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  341 

It  is  little  after  the  noon-tide  when  thereof  they  sing  no  more, 
Nor  tell  of  the  strife  that  has  been,  and  the  leaping  flames  of  war, 
And  the  vengeance  lulled  for  ever  and  the  wrath  that  shall  never  awake ; 
For  where  is  the  kin  of  Hogni,  and  who  liveth  for  Gunnar's  sake  ? 

So  men  in  the  hall  make  merry,  nor  note  the  afternoon. 

And  the  time  when  men  grow  weary  with  the  task  that  ends  not  soon ; 

The  sun  falls  down  unnoted,  and  night  and  her  daughter  are  nigh, 

And  a  dull  grey  mist  and  awful  hangeth  over  the  east  of  the  sky, 

And  spreadeth,  though  winds  are  sleeping,  and  riseth  higher  and  higher ; 

But  the  clouds  hang  high  in  the  west  as  a  sea  of  rippling  fire. 

That  the  face  of  the  gazer  is  lighted,  if  unto  the  west  ye  gaze, 

And  white  walls  in  the  lonely  meadows  grow  ruddy  under  the  blaze ; 

Yet  brighter  e'en  than  the  cloud-sea,  far-off  and  clear  serene, 

Mid  purple  clouds  unlitten  the  light  lift  lieth  between ; 

And  who  looks,  save  the  lonely  shepherd  on  the  brow  of  the  houseless  hill. 

Who  hath  many  a  day  seen  no  man  to  tell  him  of  good  or  of  ill  ? 

Day  dies,  and  the  storm-threats  perish,  and  the  stars  to  the  heaven  are  come, 

.\nd  the  white  moon  climbeth  upward  and  hangs  o'er  the  Eastland  home ; 

But  no  man  in  the  hall  of  King  Atli  shall  heed  the  heavens  without. 

For  Atli's  roof  is  their  heaven,  and  thereto  they  cast  the  shout. 

And  this,  the  glory  they  builded,  is  become  their  God  to  praise, 

The  hope  of  their  generations,  the  giver  of  goodly  days  : 

No  more  they  hearken  the  harp-strings,  no  more  they  hearken  the  song  . 

All  the  might  of  the  deedful  Niblungs  is  a  tale  forgotten  long. 

And  yester-morning's  murder  is  as  though  it  ne'er  had  been  ; 

They  heed  not  the  white-armed  Gudrun,  the  glorious  Stranger-Queen, 

They  heed  not  Atli  triumphant,  for  they  also,  they  are  Kings, 

They  are  brethren  of  the  God-folk  and  the  fashioners  of  things  ; 

Nay,  the  Gods,  —  and  the  Gods  have  sorrow,  and  these  shall  rue  no  more. 

These  world-kings,  these  prevailers,  these  beaters-down  of  war : 

What  golden  house  shall  hold  them,  what  nightless  shadowless  heaven  ? 


342  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE  VOLSUNG. 

—  So  they  feast  in  the  hall  of  Atli,  and  that  eve  is  the  first  of  the  seven. 

So  they  feast,  and  weary,  and  know  not  how  weary  they  are  grown, 

As  they  stretch  out  hands  to  gather  where  their  hands  have  never  sown ; 

They  are  drunken  with  wine  and  with  folly,  and  the  hope  they  would  bring 

to  pass 
Of  the  mirth  no  man  may  compass,  and  the  joy  that  never  was, 
Till  their  heads  hang  heavy  with  slumber,  and  their  hands  from  the  wine- 
cup  fail, 
And  blind  stray  their  hands  in  the  harp-strings  and  their  mouths  may  tell 

[no  tale. 
Now  the  throne  of  Atli  is  empty,  low  lieth  the  world-king's  head 
Mid  the  woven  gold  and  the  purple,  and  the  dreams  of  Atli's  bed. 
And  Gudrun  lieth  beside  him  as  the  true  by  the  faithful  and  kind. 
And  every  foe  is  departed,  and  no  fear  is  left  behind : 
Lo,  lo,  the  rest  of  the  night-tide  for  which  all  kings  would  long, 
And  all  warriors  of  the  people  that  have  fought  with  fear  and  wrong. 

Yet  a  while ;  —  it  was  but  an  hour  and  the  moon  was  hung  so  high. 
As  it  seemed  that  the  silent  night-tide  would  never  change  and  die ; 
But  lo,  how  the  dawn  comes  stealing  o'er  the  mountains  of  the  east, 
And  dim  grows  Atli's  roof-sun  o'er  yestereven's  feast ; 
Dim  yet  in  the  treasure-houses  lie  the  ancient  heaps  of  gold. 
But  slowly  come  the  colours  to  the  Dwarf-wrought  rings  of  old : 
Yet  a  while  j  and  the  day-light  lingers  :  yea,  yea,  is  it  darker  than  erst  ? 
Hath  the  day  into  night-tide  drifted,  the  day  by  the  twilight  nursed  ?    [morn, 
Are  the  clouds  in  the  house  of  King  Atli  ?  Or  what  shines  brighter  than 
In  helms  and  shields  of  the  ancient,  and  swords  by  dead  kings  borne } 
Have  the  heavens  come  down  to  Atli  ?     Hath  his  house  been  lifted  on  high, 
Lest  the  pride  of  the  triumphing  World-King  should  fade  in  the  world  and 

[die? 
Lo,  lo,  in  the  hall  of  the  Murder  where  the  white-armed  Gudrun  stands. 
Aloft  by  the  kingly  high-seat,  and  nought  empty  are  her  hands ; 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  343 

For  the  litten  brand  she  beareth,  and  the  grinded  war-sword  bare : 

Still  she  stands  for  a  little  season  till  day  groweth  white  and  fair 

Without  the  garth  of  King  Atli ;  but  within,  a  wavering  cloud 

Rolls,  hiding  the  roof  and  the  roof-sun ;  then  she  stirreth  and  crieth  aloud : 

"  Alone  was  I  yestereven  :  and  alone  in  the  night  I  lay, 

And  I  thought  on  the  ancient  fathers,  and  longed  for  the  dawning  of  day : 

Then  I  rose  from  the  bed  of  the  Eastlands  j  to  the  Holy  Hearth  I  went : 

And  lo,  how  the  brands  were  abiding  the  hand  of  mine  intent ! 

Then  I  caught  them  up  with  wisdom,  with  care  I  bore  them  forth, 

And  I  laid  them  amidst  of  the  treasures  and  dear  things  of  uttermost  worth  j 

'Neath  the  fair-dight  benches  I  laid  them  and  the  carven  work  of  the  hall  ^ 

I  was  wise,  as  the  handmaid  arising  ere  the  sun  hath  litten  the  wall. 

When  the  brands  on  the  hearth  she  lighteth  that  her  work  betimes  she  may 

That  her  hand  may  toil  unchidden,  and  her  day  with  praise  begin.        [win, 

—  Begin,  O  day  of  Atli !  O  ancient  sun,  arise, 

With  the  light  that  I  loved  aforetime,  with  the  light  that  blessed  mine  eyes, 

When  I  woke  and  looked  on  Sigurd,  and  he  rose  on  the  world  and  shone ' 

And  we  twain  in  the  world  together !  and  I  dwelt  with  Sigurd  alone." 

She  spake ;  and  the  sun  clomb  over  the  Eastland  mountains'  rim 
And  shone  through  the  door  of  Atli  and  the  smoky  hall  and  dim, 
But  the  fire  roared  up  against  him,  and  the  smoke-cloud  rolled  aloof. 
And  back  and  down  from  the  timbers,  and  the  carven  work  of  the  roof; 
There  the  ancient  trees  were  crackling  as  the  red  flames  shot  aloft      [soft. 
From  the  heart  of  the  gathering  smoke-cloud ;  there  the  far-fetched  hangings 
The  gold  and  the  sea-born  purple,  shrank  up  in  a  moment  of  space, 
And  the  walls  of  Atli  trembled,  and  the  ancient  golden  place. 

[stirred, 
But  the  wine-drenched  Earls  were  awaking,  and  the  sleep-dazed  warriors 
And  the  light  of  their  dawning  was  dreadful ;  wild  voice  of  the  day  they 

heard. 
And  they  knew  not  where  they  were  gotten,  and  their  hearts  were  smitten 

with  dread, 


344  THE   STORY   OF   SIGURD   THE   VOLSUNG. 

And  they  deemed  that  their  house  was  fallen  to  the  innermost  place  of  th# 

dead, 
The  hall  for  the  traitors  builded,  the  house  of  the  changeless  plain ; 
They  cried,  and  their  tongues  were  confounded,  and  none  gave  answer  again : 
They  rushed,  and  came  nowither ;  each  man  beheld  his  foe, 
And  smote  as  the  hopeless  and  dying,  nor  brother  brother  might  know, 
The  sons  of  one  mother's  sorrow  in  the  fire-blast  strove  and  smote, 
And  the  sword  of  the  first-begotten  was  thrust  in  the  father's  throat, 
And  the  father  hewed  at  his  stripling ;  the  thrall  at  the  war-king  cried 
And  mocked  the  face  of  the  mighty  in  that  house  of  Atli's  pride. 

There  Gudrun  stood  o'er  the  turmoil ;  there  stood  the  Niblung  child ; 
As  the  battle-horn  is  dreadful,  as  the  winter  wind  is  wild. 
So  dread  and  shrill  was  her  crying  and  the  cry  none  heeded  or  heard, 
As  she  shook  the  sword  in  the  Eastland,  and  spake  the  hidden  word : 

**The  brand  for  the  flesh  of  the  people,  and  the  sword  for  the  king  of  the 

[world ! " 
Then  adown  the  hall  and  the  smoke-cloud  the  half-slaked  torch  she  hurled 
And  strode  to  the  chamber  of  Atli,  white-fluttering  mid  the  smoke ; 
But  their  eyen  met  in  the  doorway  and  he  knew  the  hand  and  the  stroke, 
And  shrank  aback  before  her ;  and  no  hand  might  he  upraise, 
There  was  nought  in  his  heart  but  anguish  in  that  end  of  Atli's  days. 

But  she  towered  aloft  before  him,  and  cried  in  Atli's  home : 

"  Lo,  lo,  the  day-light,  Atli,  and  the  last  foe  overcome  !  " 

And  with  all  the  might  of  the  Niblungs  she  thrust  him  through  and  fled, 

And  the  flame  was  fleet  behind  her  and  hung  o'er  the  face  of  the  dead. 

There  was  none  to  hinder  Gudrun,  and  the  fire-blast  scathed  her  nought. 
For  the  ways  of  the  Norns  she  wended,  and  her  feet  from  the  wrack  they 

brought 
Till  free  from  the  bane  of  the  East-folk,  the  swift  pursuing  flame, 


BOOK  IV.     GUDRUN.  345 

To  the  uttermost  wall  of  Atli  and  the  side  of  the  sea  she  came : 
She  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  steep,  and  no  child  of  man  was  there  : 
A  light  wind  blew  from  the  sea-flood  and  its  waves  were  little  and  fair, 
And  gave  back  no  sign  of  the  burning,  as  in  twinkling  haste  they  ran, 
White-topped  in  the  merry  morning,  to  the  walls  and  the  havens  of  man. 

Then  Gudrun  girded  her  raiment,  on  the  edge  of  the  steep  she  stood. 
She  looked  o'er  the  shoreless  water,  and  cried  out  o'er  the  measureless 
"  O  Sea,  I  stand  before  thee  ;  and  I  who  was  Sigurd's  wife  1  [flood. 

By  his  brightness  unforgotten  I  bid  thee  deliver  my  life 
From  the  deeds  and  the  longing  of  days,  and  the  lack  I  have  won  of  the 

earth. 
And  the  wrong  amended  by  wrong,  and  the  bitter  wrong  of  my  birth !  " 

[leapt 
She  hath  spread  out  her  arms  as  she  spake  it,  and  away  from  the  earth  she 
And  cut  off  her  tide  of  returning  j  for  the  sea-waves  over  her  swept,  [sea. 
And  their  will  is  her  will  henceforward ;  and  who  knoweth  the  deeps  of  the 
And  the  wealth  of  the  bed  of  Gudrun,  and  the  days  that  yet  shall  be  ? 

Ye  have  heard  of  Sigurd  aforetime,  how  the  foes  of  God  he  slew; 
How  forth  from  the  darksome  desert  the  Gold  of  the  Waters  he  drew ; 
How  he  wakened  Love  on  the  Mountain,  and  wakened  Brynhild  the  Bright, 
And  dwelt  upon  Earth  for  a  season,  and  shone  in  all  men's  sight. 
Ye  have  heard  of  the  Cloudy  People,  and  the  dimming  of  the  day. 
And  the  latter  world's  confusion,  and  Sigurd  gone  away  j 
Now  ye  know  of  the  Need  of  the  Niblungs  and  the  end  of  broken  troth, 
All  the  death  of  kings  and  of  kindreds  and  the  Sorrow  of  Odin  the  Goth. 


THE   END. 


si 


